Damnation
by Ultimolu
Summary: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.
1. Prologue: Remembrance

**Title: **Damnation

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Resident Evil. All characters belong to Capcom respectively. However, I do own a few original characters.

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**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

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**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

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**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

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**A/N: **I swear, I didn't want to get started on this story, and yet I was suckered into it by the steady flow of good Jake/Sherry fanfiction trickling in. And usually, when you have a good ideas floating around, you can't help yourself. Like I've mentioned in my profile, I wasn't able to buy Resident Evil 6, however I did watch a playthrough, which allows me to know about the plot, plus Project Umbrella is a good source of information as well so that will help me out in later chapters.

Be warned, that if you haven't played Resident Evil 6 (or watched a playthrough like I did), there will be spoilers. This story is Alternate Universe and is based on a possible theory-post Resident Evil 6. Don't say I didn't warn you. And while this is Jake/Sherry, it does contain Chris/Jill, and Claire/Leon. (I'm contemplating Helena but I'm not sure yet. Let me know in the reviews who should it be.)

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_Deep in this darkened tomb_

_The demons begin their wake_

_An army of the dead summoned back alive_

_Souls they will now take_

_The fate has been sealed_

_With blood_

_It cannot be undone_

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[**Prologue: **Remembrance]

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|**Location: **Washington|

**Date: **March 29, 2013

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"…Why did you do it?"

It was the question he already knew the answer to, and yet he couldn't help but ask it again. He didn't move; his gaze fixated on the silver plaque. The steady downpour did nothing to put his mind at ease. It was only there to saturate the old cemetery. Redwood Cemetery was now the home to B.S.A.A agents that were killed in the line of duty. Most of their bodies were never recovered, due to the effects of viruses that ran through their bloodstream. Other agents were killed by the very monsters he had sworn to eradicate. Recent outbreaks had created another cesspool of bodies. He was forced to kill them, just to protect the ones that were still human.

There was never a time, where he felt comfortable visiting the cemetery. He couldn't remember the last time he was ever in one, not since Jill was declared a casualty in a mission that had gone horribly wrong. It took everything in him to remain strong. The enemy was still out there, and was ready to strike at any given moment. Just when he thought it was over or he was able to breathe, the nightmare persisted again. He knew what he was getting into when he became the co-founder of the B.S.A.A but he couldn't accept what was happening now.

He couldn't accept any of it.

Flowers marked the gravesite of Piers Nivan, consisting of ivory and lavender petals. Well kept grass surrounded the stems and coruscated in the rain. Bells resonated throughout the cemetery; a somber undertone used during Good Friday. He wasn't a religious man, but knew about the events that marked the church year.

Chris drew a deep breath.

It was goddamned deja'vu again.

Seven years ago, he wore the same uniform during the funeral of a woman he thought he had lost forever. This time, he was staring at the grave of a young man that once had a bright future ahead of him. Piers would have taken his place, once he retired from the B.S.A.A. He would have given up his life to see him alive. Piers was the reason why he was still alive and why he continued to fight.

But he wanted to take his place instead.

He should have been the one to die…it should have been him that was infected and stayed behind.

Even now, he knew his thoughts were selfish. Piers had sacrificed his life, just as Jill had done seven years ago. But it didn't change the emotions that continued to ravage his mind.

How many men have died? How many more would perish before it was finally over?

His grip tightened around the handle of the umbrella over his head.

Ironically, it matched his outfit. He wore a standard blue-gray suit, a white shirt, and a beret with sliver trim. It was similar to the traditional military garb but was lighter in color. For once, he was clean shaven, free of the stubble that marred the lower half of his face. He only wore the suit during special events or during important meetings. For the first time, he was to meet with the new president and chief security adviser. He didn't know if he was prepared. A part of him wanted to return to New York and pretend this was a nightmare he could wake up from.

But even then, he knew that wasn't possible.

The war against bioterrorism had only begun. He was a fool to believe that Kijuju was the end of it.

He didn't know how he had managed to sleep during the past few days. Circles developed underneath his eyes, but he did his best to conceal it. His nights were plagued with nightmares, which left him enveloped in sweat, or spending the rest of the night downstairs in the entertainment room, watching the news. Each channel consisted of the coverage regarding the outbreak and everything else that was going on. Then, he resorted to drinking…sometimes five shots of vodka at a time. He didn't want anyone to worry about him; he didn't want anyone to take pity on his situation.

He did what he could to stay in the fight, but temptation stood in his way. The last thing he needed was a therapist, picking away at his agitation.

Thunder rattled the foundations of the cemetery, adding to his silence. Piers wasn't going to answer him, not when he was already gone…just like the ones he had lost over the years. He shouldn't have expected an answer from beyond the grave.

"…It didn't have to be this way..." He muttered to himself.

Minutes passed, before a brief salute was made towards the plaque.

It was time that he took his leave.


	2. Chapter 01: Six Months

**Title: **Damnation

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

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**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

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**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

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**A/N**: Thanks so much for the reviews, I appreciate them. I made some grammatical adjustments to the prologue, mainly because it allowed the scene to flow better. I also wanted to make the relationship between Piers and Chis very close. We don't know what happened after that fateful moment so it's time to imagine and mess around with creativity. I've also decided to keep Leon/Claire (with some Ada Wong on the side), and keep his relationship with Helena professional—just like how it was in the game.

This chapter is longer than the prologue so enjoy. Other updates are coming as well. So far, I've kept my promise of not deleting anymore stories, and I intend to keep it that way.

The [] represents a video conversation. Italics represent a regular phone conversation. I was going to make the story four months later, but decided that it would be too long. Keep in mind that this story does have its share of action, but there is also a heavy dose of drama. I hope I don't make anyone cry though.

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[**Chapter 01: **Six Months]

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**Location: **Washington

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[Hey supergirl, you're supposed to be helping me with this stupid list, you know.]

Sherry jerked at the sudden rattle from her phone. She didn't expect to doze off, especially at the kitchen table. The myth of falling asleep during abominable weather had proven to be true after all. She rushed for the phone and checked the screen. True enough, Jake Muller had shown up on the display; a dirty look plastered on his handsome face. She didn't know whether to laugh or shake her head in pity. It had been two hours since he left the condo for groceries. She had given him a list with everything they needed to last a couple of weeks.

It didn't take her long to realize that he was less than pleased with the task; considering that he had transformed from a mercenary to a typical civilian in a local supermarket. His leather bomber jacket, dark shirt, and jeans stood out well enough among the customers in the background.

[Don't think I didn't see that smirk on your face. What, did I interrupt your beauty sleep or something? Well good, because this is fucking purgatory. And these crazy old ladies are giving me weird looks.]

Sherry rolled her eyes at his complaints. [You could have been more subtle. Were you trying to give me a heartattack shouting like that?]

A gasp escaped Jake's lips from the video camera as he put a hand to his chest. [I would never, and I mean never do that to a pretty face. Even though she sent me here on my own and fell asleep at the phone while I needed backup…]

The red bolted to her cheeks before Sherry could respond. Muller's trademark smirk replaced his annoyance instantaneously. [Well, it's always good to know that you're blushing again. You can't resist my charm after all.]

[Just stop.] She muttered, and returned the subtle grin. [How far are you with that grocery list anyway? The weather's not going to get better any time soon and I don't want you to get struck by lightning.]

This time, it was Jake's turn to roll his eyes. [Ha, ha, very funny. I'm rolling on the floor, even as we speak.] A groan soon followed. [I still can't believe I agreed to this shit. I feel like a fucking nanny.]

[Oh come on, you did fine. You're only doing this because I still have some work to finish on this laptop and I didn't have time to get out this week…]

[…and then you fell asleep.]

[Keep that attitude up and you won't get that reward I promised for tonight.]

Jake grumbled under his breath. [Touché supergirl…touché.]

[You're almost done anyway. And if you get here before three, maybe I'll consider giving that reward to you now—]

[Okay, now you're just being a goddamn tease.]

Sherry grinned once more in triumph. [Just come back in one piece. I wouldn't want your old lady friends mauling you out there.]

The scowl returned. [They're freaking staring at me and waving. Again…not funny.]

[You'll live.]

[Yeah, yeah. You just want to get me off the phone.]

He was gone before she could tease him again. Sherry leaned back in her chair and stretched her limbs, starting with her back. She stared at the clock on her phone, and realized it was two-thirty. The past month had felt almost normal, at least from her perspective, Tall Oaks and China were still disaster zones, and her life had become a whirlwind of changes and reports. She already knew about the meeting between Chris, William Owens and John Lambert. Owens was her new superior and chief security adviser, while Lambert was the new president of the United States. They were selected, based on emergency procedures that hadn't been used since Kennedy's assassination.

She had met both of them, and was commended for her efforts as a D.S.O agent. They both agreed that she needed some time off, but her duties still came first. Next week, she would learn about her new assignment. Jake had returned to the United States with her, and had decided to settle down, at least for now.

From there, they had developed a sentimental relationship.

He had also made the decision to talk to Chris, but never indicated when. Their brief standoff in China was still fresh in her memory.

"_You told me violence wasn't the answer, so I'll follow your advice…"_ Jake said to her one night. _"…but it won't change anything. I want answers, but I'm still the bastard child of a fucking nutjob. That's all he sees in me."_

She opened her mouth to protest, but he dropped the subject. She didn't believe Chris thought of him that way, but Sherry didn't pursue it. It wouldn't have gotten her anywhere and it would have exploded into an argument she wouldn't have been prepared to face. Tension still existed between Jake and Chris, and would remain in place until one of them made their first move. Her only wish was that it was sooner rather than later.

Sherry reached for the red coffee mug near her laptop. A young puppy sat down, wagging his tail. She had the cup for as long as she remembered, and it reminded her of the happier times during her childhood. It also reminded her that she was out of coffee. She considered calling Jake again, but decided against it.

_If I call him, he'll only flip. It's bad enough that he's being mauled by old ladies…_

Sherry was tempted to laugh once more, but she had enough entertainment for one day. Instead, she took the time to examine the space she was in.

The kitchen walls consisted of fresh paint—light blue and white. Even the appliances were white, from the refrigerator to the various cabinets. The black ceramic countertop and table was the only thing that wasn't completely white, as well as the tiles.

She had moved into the condo, once she joined the D.S.O. Leon assisted her whenever he could and when he had the chance to breathe. It was expensive, but livable and comfortable. It was a hell of a lot better than her old apartment, where the stench of mildew followed her to the bathroom. She hoped that some peace and quiet dominated Washington, at least for now. Even now, she knew that couldn't be achieved.

The outbreaks subsided, but discord remained. Civilians in various cities were in panic mode and religious zealots took this as an opportunity to declare that the end of the world was at hand. She could never watch the news, without hearing about another protest or weekly prophesies. Many declared that the government was being controlled by someone other than the president and was the source of everything that was being kept from them. The government was losing trust in its citizens and soon the protests would turn into riots.

None of it was a surprise to her.

Sherry's gaze soon fell on the laptop. Multi-tasking had become a habitual tradition and allowed her to think. The current situation left her with more paperwork than before. Owens wanted to know everything, all of which included details of her former superior—Derek Simmons. It was evident that Simmons wasn't the main culprit behind Neo-Umbrella or the C-Virus. Investigations were being carried out and government conspiracies became the social norm. Soon, she would be thrown in the same chaos in Washington. She was utilizing each day to prepare herself—both mentally and physically.

She clicked on the website she was browsing. Various clothes and accessories greeted her. How long had it been since she bought a pair of shoes or a new outfit? She recalled the times where Leon told her that a government agent had little time for leisure. She was only given six months to recover because of the situation she was placed in. She was also being commended for her efforts in creating a vaccine and protecting Jake Muller (not that he needed protection to begin with). She knew the assignment was dangerous, but she didn't anticipate the kidnapping part or being locked in a battle with creatures more terrifying than anything she had ever faced.

Even now, she didn't know how long the 'peace' would last before Neo-Umbrella reared its head again.

Another vibration from her phone jolted Sherry from her thoughts. She checked again to see if it was Jake, but this time it was Claire.

Sherry picked up on the last ring.

"_I wanted to call as soon as I could but security is ridiculous around here. You weren't kidding when you said Washington was like Fort Knox."_

A wry smile appeared on Sherry's face. Claire was supposed to leave for Washington, but the travel had been difficult. The government was treating the Neo-Umbrella situation as a code red and certain flights were grounded, particularly the ones bound for Washington and various countries across the globe. Security was tight, especially in Washington. Soldiers and D.S.O agents scoured the area and other neighboring cities. New York was met with the same fate, with the N.Y.P.D and the National Coast Guard on full alert. She couldn't imagine the trouble Claire had during the past month, but she knew things would only get worse from now.

"I don't think it's going to improve any time soon," Sherry said. "I didn't expect it would take this long for you to reach Washington. You're still at the airport, right?"

"_Pretty much. Leon is supposed to pick me up in a couple of minutes but his hands are full. He was able to pull some strings though. TerraSave hasn't been the same since this Neo-Umbrella situation either."_

"I know. I didn't have a chance to contact him today. Looks like I'll be thrown into the shark tank next week. I hope I don't end up on the wrong side of the tank." **(1)**

"_Don't talk like that Sherry. You're the reason why there's a vaccine for the C-Virus. You did well."_

Sherry paused. She knew Claire wouldn't allow her to think this way. "…I guess I did—"

"_No, you did well."_ Claire repeated. _"If it wasn't for you, things could have been much worse." _She paused as well_. "…Is Jake with you?"_

"I sent him to the supermarket to pick up some things but he should be back. Why? Is something wrong?"

" …_I know about the situation with Chris. Chris didn't talk that much about it…the last time we were on the phone, but I know he wants to get everything off his chest. He knows Jake isn't like…Wesker, but it's been difficult for him. He still blames himself for the death of his men, especially Piers. When he's ready, he'll speak with Jake. I don't know how long it'll take…but I know he'll break through soon. Now, this isn't the time."_

Sherry was silent. Claire was right, but she didn't respond. She had seen Chris. As much as she believed that he would remain strong, for the sake of bringing the ones responsible for this mess to justice, he was a shell of his former self. She had never seen a man that was burdened and filled with guilt. During Pier's funeral, he couldn't finish the speech he had prepared. But Sherry would never forget the words he did leave behind.

"_Piers Nivan…was a good man. He would have been the future of the B.S.A.A. But he…sacrificed his life instead. To quote Nathan Hale, '…I regret that I have but one life to give for my country.' Piers…gave up that life. His willingness to put everything on the line…was the greatest sacrifice any man could give for his country and those he cared for. To ignore that would be the greatest sin. If Piers had more than one life, he would have given all of them up."_**(2)**

"_Sherry? Are you there?"_

Sherry pushed the speech away from her mind. "I'm still here. Once you settle down…I mean when Leon picks you up, you can come over, if you want…and have dinner with us. Chris can come too. Things have been tense around here. Someone has to break the ice."

"_I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to intrude, and Chris might not—"_

"It's no trouble at all. Please Claire…at least consider my offer."

Claire hesitated at first, but soon answered her. _"Okay…I'll accept your offer. But I don't know about Chris."_

"Just ask him. It wouldn't hurt. I don't think they'll hold him too long. It…may be good for him. It just gives us a chance to just settle down…at least for now."

"…_I'll see what I can do. I better go for now. We'll talk later."_

"Okay. Stay safe."

"_I will."_

Sherry hung up, once she heard Claire hang up. A sigh escaped her lips.

She only hoped the small dinner went as smoothly as she had just planned out.

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**Notes**: **(1)** I am a sucker for that show –Shark Tank. I tend to watch it every Friday evening so that just clicked. It also sounded like something Sherry would say, considering the crap she's been through.

**(2)** I felt this speech was powerful, especially the quotation from Nathan Hale. I could imagine Chris reciting this speech during Pier's funeral. It really sucks that Capcom killed off Piers like that but what can you do except write fanfiction and keep him alive? That gives me an idea, but I'm keeping that for another story.

And if anyone is wondering about why Claire took so long to get into Washington, I would imagine the chaos and heavy security that would most likely follow after the outbreaks in Tall Oaks and China. Plus, you have the heavy hitters (Leon and Chris in particular) busy on all fronts.


	3. Chapter 02: A New President

**Title: **Damnation

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

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**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

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**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

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**A/N: **Thanks so much for the reviews—I really appreciate them. I have been doing some military research in order to make the backdrop of this story as realistic as possible. And yeah, about Jake being in a supermarket, I tried to imagine him in the middle of an aisle, muttering curses under his breath and swearing vengeance on whoever put him in that situation. He reminds me of a cross between Dante (Devil May Cry series—and definitely too cocky for his own good) and Bruce Willis from the Die Hard movies (foul mouth galore). I will definitely stay true to his character throughout this story so don't worry about that. Anyway, this chapter is pretty long so enjoy and have fun.

Also, does anyone want me to put together a soundtrack for this story? It's a pretty big project (along with nemocen and Liberator) and I may do this for my other stories as well. Just let me know in the reviews.

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[**Chapter 02: **A New President]

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**Location: **Washington

**Time: **3:00pm

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"…I wish we could have met under different circumstances."

Chris shook the hand of President John Lambert, his grip firm. His time with Pier's gravesite had lasted more than fifteen minutes. Jill had been waiting for him once he left the cemetery. She opted to stay outside, rather than follow him through the narrow walkway. He didn't ask her why she didn't come with him—he already knew. The tombstones and plaques reminded her of her 'grave' seven years ago. From since the mission in Kijuju and her rehabilitation, she was fully reinstated as a B.S.A.A agent and had returned as his partner.

Even now, she was with him, and provided as much support as he had given her.

He didn't open his mouth to speak, because he didn't know how to respond.

He refused to cry, despite his sentimentality. It was difficult to construe what he felt at the moment. Fear, doubt, uncertainty, rage, depression, guilt…they were all the same to him. Everything he had fought so hard to achieve lay in ruins. The B.S.A.A offered to provide a counselor for him, but the only thing they received from him was a weak laugh.

They were afraid he'd go crazy and kill everyone that got in his way. They were afraid there was something inside of him that would snap at any given moment. They assumed he would be in a mental institution before Neo-Umbrella was stopped. His quest for vengeance burned within him and wouldn't be quenched until he made the monsters responsible for the death of his men pay.

They were out of their fucking minds if they fought he would just give up here and now.

He was going to end this, once and for all.

No words were exchanged between him and Jill once they stepped inside the dark SUV. It was sent by two agents that were sent to pick him up and bring him to the White House. He was to meet Lambert first, and then Owens—the new security adviser and Sherry's employer. A meeting would take place in the conference room at the Pentagon. It was to cover what they knew about the organization responsible for this mess, as well as the current situation. He learned that the situation in China had only gotten worse. The government there had refused to bomb the areas that were infected and was determined to utilize enough forces to quarantine each area. The uninfected believed their government was dragging their asses during a humanity crisis and feared for the worst.

Even now, the quarantine zone wasn't holding. It wouldn't be long before the infected moved into major cities and China became a cesspool for the undead. There was still tension between China and the United States, even though lives were at stake. Tall Oaks was also quarantined, but he didn't know much about the situation over there—not now, at least. He also learned that the C-Virus was making its presence known in various cases throughout the world. He could only imagine the chaos at each B.S.A.A branch.

He was dealing with his own crisis here at home.

The meeting also included Leon, and would soon involve Sherry. He had only gotten a few chances to speak with her in person, but knew she was employed with the D.S.O with good reason. She was intelligent and knew her way around weapons and tactical offense. In a way, he admired how strong she had been throughout the ordeal. For now, she was on temporary leave, and would be back to full duty next week.

_One big, happy family…_

His thoughts were interrupted, once Lambert continued. "I wouldn't have imagined taking the president's seat…at least in this manner. One minute, I was Adam Benford's vice president, the next minute I'm sworn in to take his place. But of course, one needs to be prepared for these types of emergencies. Your reputation precedes you Mr. Redfield—I've heard much about you."

"Thank you sir," Chris said. "I do what I can to serve and protect my country, as well as the innocent."

Lambert nodded and withdrew his hand. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

Chris withdrew his hand as well and removed his beret. He sat down and placed it on his lap, once Lambert sat down in his leather chair. It wasn't the first time he was in the White House, or the president's office. He had met Adam Benford, once he became involved with the B.S.A.A. The man seemed genuine and determined to carry out his duties. He didn't know much about politics, but he knew there were several dirtbags in office. Of course they were still there, but he wasn't one to judge or determine whether they should remain there or not.

The office was the way he remembered it, with a few notable changes. Three windows with achromatic trim overlooked the kempt grass and the silhouettes of agents stationed outside. The crimson drapes hung over the windows and served as an extra part of the prodigious décor. Most of the furniture was a rich mahogany color, and stood out against the light chestnut walls. The carpet was also of a luminous chestnut hue. Various paintings hung against the wall, from George Washington, to the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Two black statues were on either side of the room on two wooden cabinet desks. In the middle, the president's desk stood out; filled with paperwork and a speakerphone that matched the statues across the room.

For a minute, Chris imagined himself in Benford's place. The country had become Lambert's burden to bear, and he had a press conference to conduct soon from now. He couldn't fathom what was going through Lambert's mind. He was forced into a situation where he was to take the reins of the former commander in chief. It was then that he noticed the man was younger than his predecessor. In some ways, he reminded Chris of a younger version of John F. Kennedy. Lambert was around his height, with short brown hair and a fair build. His livid eyes contained knowledge of what he was getting himself into and his new role. He was clad in a suit that was darker than his eye color and a tie that matched the drapes.

Lambert rubbed his face and then ran both hands through his hair. Chris noticed circles that developed underneath his eyes from a lack of sleep.

_He has the country on his shoulders and a global outbreak to contend with. We'll all need a very long vacation once this is over…_

Minutes passed, before Lambert spoke. "I've already briefed Agent Kennedy on what I intend to do for the next few days. I wanted to see you personally because of my respect for your patriotism and your efforts to protect this world from bioterrorism. I intend to carry out Benford's wishes before he succumbed to his infection."

He knew what Lambert was talking about. Benford had sworn to reveal everything to the public about the truth regarding the Raccoon City Outbreak at the Ivy University in Tall Oaks. He was injected with a virus before he went public and turned into one of the undead within minutes. He had heard the full story from Leon once they returned to the states. After the bioterrorist assassination, Kennedy and his partner Helena Harper were on the run from the government, fugitives for orchestrating the president's death.

"We must fight this global threat on all fronts. I need your support in going public with the Raccoon City outbreak. People are frightened and deserve to know the truth. They need a sense of assurance…that we are doing everything in our power to end this. I'm sure you're aware of the protests in New York and Washington as of late."

"Yes sir…it's been all over the news."

He would have been lying if he denied it. The brief conversation he had with Claire last night confirmed the traffic congestion that stood between her and Washington. He couldn't turn on the news without seeing an expressway backed up for miles. The airports were just as chaotic, with grounded flights coming in and out of the country and Washington. She was to arrive today, and he entrusted Kennedy with the task to pick her up. Tension still existed between them, but he was willing to push it aside for the sake of working together. He didn't know why the agent still defended Ada Wong, after everything she had put him through. He didn't want to believe that a clone was responsible for the death of his men, but was forced to accept the story for what it was.

He knew about her rapsheet. From her involvement with Umbrella to her work with Albert Wesker, she had slipped under the radar again. She was wanted in several countries and was considered an accomplice to bioterrorism. Somehow, her relationship with Kennedy started in Raccoon City. Regardless of what he thought about Kennedy, he still trusted him to keep his sister out of harm's way.

"Benford was a dear friend of mine as well. During press conferences, he would crack a few jokes every now and then, but he took his work seriously. Now it's my turn to gain the trust of the American people."

Lambert folded his hands and stared at Chris. "I know you were a survivor of the Raccoon City outbreak, and it would be a great help if you were to assist me with the upcoming press conference.."

His mind trailed off, as Lambert spoke. Did he want to remember Raccoon City? It was a cataclysm of events that cost more lives than any disaster the country faced. He would never forget Arklay Mansion. He had lost nearly everyone that night, and to revisit the nightmare he left behind…Chris didn't know if he could do it. But he couldn't argue with President Lambert.

The public deserved to know everything.

"…Agent Redfield?"

Lambert's gaze was focused on him. Chris cleared his throat, and ran a hand over his beret. "…I'll assist in any way I can sir. You're right…they serve to know the truth. I would also like to add…that Benford would have been proud of what you're trying to accomplish, with all due respect."

Lambert nodded. "Thank you, Commander Redfield. It...means a lot to me."

"I'm sure you'll do well sir."

Even as he responded, Chris wondered if it was enough to gain the public's trust.

* * *

**• • •**

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**Location: **Washington

**Time: **3:05pm

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"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Jake responded in the way only Jake would answer.

Sherry took a deep breath, as she took the bag of groceries from him and placed it on the counter with the other bags he brought in from the car. He stared at her in disbelief, his arms folded. She could sense agitation, as it radiated from each syllable. Fortunately, it was the last bag he brought in from the silver Buick Verano.**(1)** Just as she suspected, he arrived back at the house around three o'clock.

She should have known he wouldn't have taken the news well, once he found out.

"You invited that jarhead over for dinner with his sister? What, I don't get a say in this? I'm out grocery shopping and you're negotiating a dinner? When did this come up?"

Sherry turned around and leaned against the counter. "Stop calling him that. It'll be good for the both of you and it'll give everyone a chance to…I don't know, clear their heads. I'm returning to active duty next week, but this doesn't even feel like a vacation. It won't feel like a vacation until all of this is over."

"And why shouldn't I call him that? I don't owe him shit. I didn't want to face him, at least not right now. What the hell did you expect from me, that I'll be alright with this? That we'll fucking join hands together and get along just fine and dandy? I know how he feels about me and that's not going to change, unless by some miracle he makes the first move. How could you plan this without telling me—"

"I'm telling you now. I wanted to wait until you came back. You're assuming he feels that way about you, but you haven't heard anything from him." She cut him off and pulled away from the counter. "I know he doesn't feel that way about you. Chris isn't like that."

"And you would know because…?"

"Did you stop to think that this is difficult for him too?"

"You saw the way he looked at me during that other jarhead's funeral—"

"Piers." Sherry corrected him.

"Right. He looked at me like I was a fucking monster. I'm nothing like my father and I don't plan to be like him anytime soon. You shouldn't have tried to set this up. It's not going to work. When I'm good and ready, I'll come to him, not the other way around."

Sherry's temper flared. "You're being unreasonable Jake. You're the one who wanted to know everything about your father. One minute, you were determined to talk to him and now you're backpedalling? I can't provide all of the answers…Chris has to be the one to do this. He knows more about your father than I ever did—"

"I'm not backpedaling Sherry. I just wasn't ready for you to play negotiator."

"Again, you're being unreasonable. Chris has more answers than I can give. You can't run away from this. Sooner or later you'll have to face him. I'm also doing this because Claire went through hell getting here and the least I can do is accommodate her. I thought you understood that when we arrived here. You came because you wanted answers— "

"I came for you."

His interruption caught her off guard. Sherry was about to respond, but he cut her off. "You're right…I can't run from this. But I wasn't ready to face him. I don't know how this dinner is going to change anything. But you're the main reason why I gave up the mercenary business."

She watched, as his arms unfolded from his chest. He approached the counter, and drew her towards his chest.

Sherry didn't stop him.

His fingers brushed through strands of short blonde hair. It was then she felt a kiss on top of her head. "Look, I don't want to fight about this." He murmured in her hair. "We've just gotten together…hell we're not even engaged yet. I just didn't think this dinner was a good idea."

"…You have to face this Jake," Sherry said. The hint of cologne and aftershave filled her nostrils, as she drew closer to him. "This was the only way I could think of to bring the two of you together. After next week…I don't know what's going to happen. It's not going to get any easier."

Jake released a sigh of his own. "So…I guess there's no way to change your mind about this."

Sherry shook her head. "No. And don't try to change my mind either."

Silence prevailed between them for what seemed to be eternity. Finally, Sherry broke the iron curtain between them. "Let's just put this stuff away. I don't want the frozen goods to spoil."

Jake didn't argue with her. "Yeah…wouldn't want that icecream to melt," he said with a smirk. Eventually, they withdrew and began to unpack. "Speaking of groceries, did you have anything planned? You know…like a menu or something?"

Sherry was thoughtful for a few minutes. "There was a recipe I was reading about last night…which is why I told you to pick up the linguine and clams."

Jake's eyebrow rose. "Really? And what recipe would that be?"

"Linguini con Vongole." **(2)**

Confusion lingered on Jake's face. "What the fuck is that—"

Sherry placed a finger on his thin lips. "Language Jake…language. Seriously, you spew more cuss words than a woman with premenstrual syndrome. And you've been around the world and didn't know about that dish?"

Jake stared down at her. "Now I know you just didn't compare me with a chick that's on her period. I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that from you. And no, I've never heard of Linguini von Con…whatever the hell that is. I may have traveled the world but I wasn't at some exotic hotel with that kind of food."

Sherry snorted a laugh and slapped his arm. "I'm just kidding Jake, relax. And it's Linguini con Vongole. It's linguine with clams, white wine, black pepper, olive oil, garlic, red pepper flakes, basil and Italian parsley. And since I have that stuff here already, that's all you needed to pick up."

Jake pulled a box of eggs out of one of the bags. "And…there's no getting out of this either, right?"

Sherry shook her head once more. "…Nope. And you're going to help me. Come on, it won't be that bad."

"Define bad."

"You'll just have to follow my lead and everything will work out fine."

Jake grimaced. " Just lovely."

* * *

**Notes: **If Anyone is wondering about President Lambert, normally a vice president becomes the next president of the United States, in face of an assassination or any other disaster. We all know what happened to Benford in the game (well, at least the people who played Resident Evil 6 already). Also, there is a reason why this new president waited before he could carry out Benford's final wish before he became a brainless zombie. With all the chaos that this outbreak caused, a lot of other things were going on as well.

The next chapter will definitely be much longer.

* * *

**(1)** An agent does need a fast ride to get around in and this is a real model of a car. I felt it would suit Sherry well enough.

**(2)** Linguini con Vongole is a French dish for linguine and clams.


	4. Chapter 03: Undone

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **I can't believe it. The ideas for this chapter came much faster than I expected. I guess that when sit down and really think, ideas just flow. Anyways, this chapter is very long, and even longer chapters will soon follow as well. Again, I appreciate the support and feedback I am getting from this story. Keep it going! Also, my intentions for this story was meant to be like Resident Evil game, where we see everything from each character's viewpoint. I've always written my stories this way.

Anyway, this chapter is pretty long and even longer chapters will come in as well. I didn't receive any responses from anyone regarding a soundtrack for this story so please let me know if there should be one.

* * *

_Keep holding on_

_When my brain's ticking like a bomb_

_Guess the black thoughts_

_Have come again to get me_

_**Korn, Coming Undone**_

* * *

[**Chapter 03: **Undone]

* * *

**Location: **Washington

**Time: **8:30pm

* * *

Leon couldn't remember the last time he had seen his apartment, much less his bed. During the past few weeks, he spent his nights at a local hotel near the White House in case there was an emergency or he was needed. The new president-John Lambert made arrangements for him to stay there, but he refused. He wanted time alone, where he didn't want to deal with anyone once the day was over. From suppressing protests to dealing with the current situation, he was exhausted—mentally and physically.

The only thing on his mind was a hot shower and a couple of beers to drown out his migraine. Ingrid Hunnigan was the one who convinced him to check out of the hotel and return home, at least for now. He didn't know when he'll end up back at the White House, and that was the last thing on his mind right now.

"_I would rather have my best agent in top shape, rather than dead in the water and cramped in a small hotel,"_ she said with a diminutive smile. It was one of the few times she had shown her emotional side, and he appreciated it. From the times he worked with her, she was a woman of few expressions, with the exception of professionalism and integrity. Even now, she also had her hands full with this mess. Political backlash be damned, he couldn't see anything getting better at this point. The death of Adam Benford and the absence of a vice president was enough to send shockwaves throughout the country and propelled the media over the edge.

He grew tired of the _'no comment'_ spin a long time ago.

He wanted nothing more than for this nightmare to be over. The memories of Raccoon City never left his mind for a second; the screams, the moans of the infected…he never forgot them. Tall Oaks was just another reminder of the hell he was placed in time and time again.

Now, as he stood in front of the door, he wondered if he should go through the painstaking task of putting his apartment back in order when he ran the risk of being called into action once more. He had spoken to the landlord months ago, and was forced to have the electricity suspended while he was away. The number of the apartment stuck out before him, encased in gold. He was fortunate to have the first apartment on the bottom floor. It was convenient for him, especially when he was in a hurry and didn't have time hopping over someone's trash in the middle of the hallway.

A soft groan reached his lips as he massaged his neck.

_Fuck it..._

Everything would have to wait until the weekend.

Leon's hand lowered as he fished a key out of his leather jacket. A rush of cool air greeted him once he unlocked the door. It was closed behind him once he ventured inside. Everything was the way he left it, except for the three houseplants by each window that overlooked the street below. They didn't survive, which didn't come off as a surprise to him.

Maybe it was time to stop playing gardener.

Leon dropped his overnight bag by the door and the keys on a wooden nightstand. An ashtray laid dormant on the surface, littered with old remnants of shavings from previous cigarettes. He was supposed to clean it, but it slipped his mind each time. He had quit smoking for good, when Hunnigan gave him a look that could freeze water during his small breaks. He could tell that she loathed the scent and wasn't crazy with the fact that he wasn't a believer in the surgeon's warning label.

From since then, he promised her he would do something about it, much to his chagrin.

He was still nicotine-free.

There wasn't time for him to do anything that resembled a normal civilian life. He still had laundry to sort out, not to mention dishes that were still in the dishwasher. That would have to wait until the weekend as well.

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the sofa. The apartment wasn't glamorous, but it was livable and better than his old apartment. Dull, pasty alabaster paint hugged the walls and complimented the rich mahogany floor. The sofa matched the décor, and went well with the flat screen television set against the wall in the far right corner. A small collection of videos were on the dark entertainment table but they were old kung-fu flicks he didn't bother watching or fell asleep before he could pop them into his blu-ray player. Two doors were on the left side of the room, slightly ajar, as well as an opening that led into the kitchen. One door was a walk-in closet with a secret passage, while the other led to his bedroom.

The stench of dry cologne and aftershave hung in the air, as he approached his bedroom. He thought about Claire when he closed the door behind him. She was reunited with her brother, once he brought her through the hellhole known as traffic congestion. It took him three hours to get to the airport, longer than he anticipated when he left the White House. She was waiting for him, a suitcase and a traveling bag in hand. If he didn't pull some strings with the airport in Washington and New York, she wouldn't have made it this far. Once Claire saw him, he was met with a hug that knocked him into the black Cadillac.

He didn't stop her, as he found himself returning the embrace. It had been eight long years since the Harvardville incident and was the last time they had seen each other. He kept in touch when he was able to call and even sent a lengthy email on what he had been up to, but physical contact was better than a cell phone or a computer screen. Claire's embrace lasted for a good ten minutes before he informed her that they had a long trip ahead of them. They did what they could to avoid the discussion of the outbreaks and the current situation, but eventually the subject couldn't be helped. Then, there was a new mission assignment that involved the full cooperation of the B.S.A.A and the D.S.O. With Neo-Umbrella, came hidden facilities that were discovered during the two months of investigation.

Their objective was to locate each one and dismantle them. For now, the outbreaks were at a standstill, but Leon was convinced that they would begin again.

They just didn't know when.

It was then that he learned about Sherry's plan to bring Chris and Jake together. He didn't think the dinner was a good idea, not when there was animosity between the two men. Jake wanted answers, but in his own way. Chris, on the other hand was a loose cannon and still in denial that Albert Wesker had a son. A man that had lost his entire unit…it was enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity. It was only a matter of time before Chris snapped and he didn't want to be in the crossfire.

There was already tension that existed between them as well—Chris remained convinced that Ada Wong couldn't be trusted. Leon only hoped that Chris kept his sanity together for the time being. Neo-Umbrella preyed on fear and mobocracy. When they strike again, it would be without mercy, just as before.

Leon undid the cuffs of his dress shirt. It was the same navy hue as the one he wore while he was in Tall Oaks and China. He replaced the shirt once he returned to the United States, only because it was his favorite one.

It wasn't the first one he had to replace either.

The rest of his attire soon followed—the black holster vest, and slacks. It wasn't long before he was down to his gray boxers. He checked his service issued Blacktail before it was placed on the dresser. His bedroom was as conventional as the living room, complete with his king-sized bed and the mahogany dresser that contained his shirts and socks. He was careful not to leave valuables in the open, but he trusted the landlord to keep his apartment safe. Linda Murphy had been more than generous to him, even to the point of giving him time to pay the rent. He didn't know much about her, except that she was single and had lost her first husband a few years ago. He didn't pry into personal relationships, so he didn't ask for details. She was the reason why he had a roof over his head and that was the only thing that mattered.

A sudden vibration from his pants jolted Leon from his thoughts. Another groan rumbled from the bottom of his throat.

_Give a man some privacy, something else comes up…_

He retrieved the phone from his pocket (which he nearly forgot to pull out) and checked the number.

_Helena…?_

He remembered her as clear as yesterday. They remained close friends after she was cleared of any wrongdoing or involvement in Adam Benford's death. They didn't have a chance to meet again, but he knew her people were just as busy as his department.

He was surprised that she would call him around this time.

Leon answered the call, once the phone reverberated again. "Nice timing, Ms. Harper."

There was a pause on the other end before Helena answered. _"Sorry…did I call at a bad time?"_

Leon shook his head and sat at the edge of the bed. "…No, not really. I'm just trying to settle down. They finally gave me some alone time and I'm just trying to make the most of it."

"_So does that mean you won't be able to join me for a drink at the local bar?"_

Leon didn't need to think about his answer. He didn't have the strength to drag his body out of the apartment again, not after power was restored and he was tempted to just fall asleep on the bed and take a shower later. "Not tonight…unfortunately. Maybe tomorrow or some other time. For now, I'm pooped."

He could hear Helena's soft laugh on the other end. _"That's probably the first time I've heard you use that word so loosely. That tired, huh?"_

"What word?"

"_Pooped. It sounds funny, coming from you."_

Leon ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well…I'm full of surprises, it seems. I've been at the White House since six o'clock. The press isn't going to back down until President Lambert follows through on Benford's promise to reveal the truth about Raccoon City. He's going to need all the protection he can get. I'd be damned if this becomes a repeat of what happened to Benford."

It wasn't the first time he vowed to make sure Lambert didn't follow the same fate as the last president. He couldn't shake the memory of what he was forced to do in Tall Oaks. His old friend's death continued to haunt him, even after the funeral. Despite Helena's assurance that he had done the right thing, it was still difficult for him to accept.

_"I know you won't allow something like this to happen again."_ Helena was silent for a few minutes, but Leon decided to change the subject. He could sense a degree of guilt in her voice.

"So…how are things with you? I mean...outside of work?"

Helena cleared her throat. _"Well, it's been okay for the most part, I guess. How are things with you?"_

Leon sighed. "It hasn't been too bad on my end. I had to pick up Redfield from the airport this afternoon."

"_Chris Redfield's sister, right? The one that's working with TerraSave?"_

"Yeah…I had to pull some strings to bring her into Washington. I don't know if they'll be needed for this situation but they're on standby and are willing to help in any way possible. She's their main representative."

"_I see. Well, if you're not going to take me up on my offer, I might as well go. If things don't get too crazy, I'll keep in touch."_

Leon chuckled. "You sound tired yourself."

Helena sighed. _"That bad, huh? Of course I am. While things are okay with me…my department has been going crazy as of late. I'm sure your people are running around like headless chickens right now."_

He didn't argue with her. "No kidding. I worry about Hunnigan sometimes."

"_Well, she has a lot on her plate, just like the rest of us. Well, in any case…I better go. Have a good night, Agent Kennedy."_

"Likewise, Agent Harper. Goodnight."

She hung up, leaving a busy dialtone behind. Leon hung up, and set the phone to silent. A few minutes passed before he rose from the bed.

Maybe a shower and a cup of tea was a better option.

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

**Location: **Washington

**Time: **8:40 pm

* * *

Sherry watched, as Jake stabbed his fork into the grape tomato on his plate, and then Chris' response. He was silent as well, as he dug into his own plate of salad. She could feel Claire's uneasy glance in her direction, but she didn't speak. She could tell that Chris was irritated with the ordeal, but kept it hidden under the visage of kindness he had shown her upon arrival. Jake, on the other hand was doing everything in his power not to explode. Whatever was going on between them, she had overestimated her ability to diffuse the situation.

She didn't expect to have dinner this late, but Claire informed her that the meeting at the Pentagon had gone longer than expected and Chris wanted to go home to change. But she knew that something else was amiss, other than the fact that Jill didn't come and wanted to take care of a few things. The look on her face indicated that it wasn't something she wanted to discuss around Chris or Jake.

Instead, Sherry decided to focus on their casual attire.

Claire was just the way she remembered her, since Leon showed her a picture on his phone. Her auburn hair was drawn into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and celebrated the short evening dress she wore. Sherry could hear the heels of her black shoes click together under the table. Chris wore a simple white shirt, dark slacks and tie, while Jake wore a muscle shirt and slacks that bore the indistinct color of Claire's dress. Sherry wore a white polka-dot dress with a pair of Mary Jane shoes to match. Despite her best efforts for them to not resemble a funeral procession, it was a failure as well.

A basket filled with breadsticks occupied the table, along with two bowls of linguine and clams. She had cooked enough for seconds and for leftovers during the rest of the week. Two bottles of champagne were on the side. Parmesan cheese, Italian dressing and olives were encased in smaller dishes. A large bowl of salad was at the center of the table. Sherry did everything to make sure the décor matched the occasion. She brought out the silverware and mats she had stored away when she didn't expect company.

Chris and Jake sat across from each other, while she was seated with Claire in a horizontal fashion.

Minutes passed, before Chris was the one to break the silence at the table, much to Sherry's surprise. "…I didn't think you were much of a chef. I'm impressed."

Jake's head rose from his plate.

It was the first thing that came from his mouth since he arrived at the condo with Claire.

Sherry hesitated for a few minutes before she answered him. "…It was the best I could do, since Claire's here and I wanted her to feel welcomed, despite the circumstances. I figured that everyone needed some kind of a break around here, after what happened. I would have invited Leon but he declined my offer."

Chris nodded. "I know you had good intentions and I appreciate it. A part of me just wanted to stay home, but Claire pushed me to come so I couldn't refuse. She also said it would be perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other—"

"Then why didn't you?"

All eyes were trained on Jake. He muttered the question under his breath, but it didn't go unnoticed.

Sherry glared at him. "Jake—"

"Why didn't I what?" Chris stopped her before she continued.

Jake dropped his fork on the plate. A sharp clatter plugged the air as he stared at him. "Don't play stupid Redfield. You know what I meant. Why didn't you stay home?"

Claire stared at Chris, but he ignored her. "I should have known this would happen."

Jake folded his arms. "I'm not sure what you were expecting when you came here anyway."

Chris gave him a withered stare. "Look, I didn't come here to start anything or to play commando with you. I only came here for Claire and your girlfriend's sake, otherwise I wouldn't be in front of this table. From what I understood, you came back to the states because you wanted answers from me. For two months, you've beaten around the bush and haven't said a goddamn thing. Your attitude doesn't change the fact that your father was a crazed lunatic and he's the reason why we're in this fucking mess in the first place. I saw the way you looked at me ever since I walked in. I don't know what your problem is, but if you have something on your mind, then speak up."

"Don't start anything Chris—"Claire warned him, but Jake's laugh silenced her.

"You know what my problem is? You. And it's going to remain that way for a long time. I never wanted this dinner in the first place but I'm just going through with it for Sherry's sake. You knew my father was a fucking lunatic and yet you're so sure I'll end up just like him. How many times do I need to convince you that I don't want to be like him? I just saved the goddamn world and the best you can do is treat me like I'm a fucking monster."

"Is that your best excuse?"

"What makes you think it's an excuse?"

"I've never looked at you that kind of way. From since you came back to the states, I've acknowledged what you've done to save millions of people out there. But you're in no position to judge me, not after the hell I've been through."

"…Really? Then maybe you should stop pretending that you're the only one that's been through it—"

"Both of you need to knock it off." Claire snapped. "It doesn't have to be this way—"

Chris shook his head. "Dinner hasn't even started yet and you've proceeded to make a complete ass of yourself Jake Muller. Good job. I'm sure you had this planned all along. "

Jake shrugged, a smirk plastered on his face. "I guess you know me well enough—"

A hand slammed on the surface of the table. "Stop it, both of you!"

Sherry's tampered voice sliced through the air and was enough to silence them. "I didn't just have this dinner to accommodate Claire. I did this in order for both of you to come together and set aside your differences. This isn't the time to fight, not right now. This isn't what I wanted either so just stop this, please."

"Your boyfriend started this—"Chris began but Sherry cut him off.

"I know, and I'm sorry. It doesn't matter who started it. Just stop. Both of you need to end this tonight but not at the dinner table. This isn't the time or place for it."

She waited for a response. Chris and Jake were at a standstill, as they stared at each other. Finally, Jake grunted and reached for a bottle of champagne.

"Fine by me," he said, much to Sherry's relief. "But that doesn't change anything."

Chris returned to his plate. "If you want answers, then drop the tough guy act. I'm here, whenever you want to settle down and be a man. I was never your enemy in the first place and to be honest, you don't intimidate me. I've been through worse."

"Fu—ow!"

Sherry kicked Jake's ankle before he uttered the offending word. Jake grumbled under his breath and began to rub where she kicked him. Claire seemed relieved as well, as she finished the remainder of her salad. '

The rest of the dinner went on in silence.

Sherry noticed that Chris and Jake did their best not to start another fight at the table but even then she wasn't sure if it was enough to keep them from killing each other. Jake's resentment was the reason why he stayed away. She never coerced him into approaching Chris, because Jake did things in his own way. Both of them were relentless and strong-willed. If anything, she expected another confrontation before the night drew to a close.

She could only hope it was more than a couple of minutes ago.

"This is really good Sherry," Claire said, as she reached for another helping of the linguine dish. "Where did you find the recipe?"

Sherry drank the rest of her champagne and placed the glass on the table. "Online. I couldn't think of anything else so I decided to try my luck at something I've never done before. Jake helped me with the recipe and brought most of the stuff. He deserves a degree of thanks, at least."

"Well, in that case, I need to show Chris around the kitchen more often."

Chris rolled his eyes at her light jab of humor. "Don't start Claire. Just don't."

Claire sighed. "I didn't insult your cooking."

Chris didn't answer her.

"Funny, I've always thought of you as a typical family man," Jake said. He noticed that Chris wasn't amused by his remark. "Chill Redfield, it was a joke. For once, just laugh in your life. Take it as my way of apologizing for what happened earlier."

Sherry didn't like the satisfied grin on Jake's face.


	5. Chapter 04: Past Memories

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks again for the reviews-I appreciate them. Wow, I'm updating again. I never expected that to happen twice in one week. I guess it was the fact that I already had these ideas in mind once I had the third chapter in place. My other stories will be the same way and that will allow me to update much faster. I hope everyone in the Tri-State area isn't doing too badly from the effects of Hurricane Sandy. I was just fortunate to update before there was a chance of my electricity going out during the storm. But fortunately for me, that didn't happen. Anyway, this chapter is also pretty long so enjoy.

* * *

[**Chapter 04: **Past Memories]

* * *

** Location: **Washington

******Time: **10:00pm

* * *

Jill stared at the mirror before her. The bathroom had become a traditional hideout for the past year. Every six weeks, she bought enough hair dye to mute the pale hue that managed to peel through the rustic color. It became her curse to bear alone, one of which she was forced to contend with. It was revolting; to view her freedom as some form of an anniversary. There was nothing to celebrate, not after the hell she had gone through and what she faced now. A period of nostalgia visited her every now and then, when she least expected it.

Chris didn't ask her way she decided to stay behind.

He already knew.

* * *

• • •

* * *

"_I'll be home around eleven o'clock…maybe later," he said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. "Depends on whether Muller gives trouble at the dinner table or not. Either way, I want this to end tonight. I don't have time with his games or attitude for that matter."_

"_He resents you." She replied. "…I know it's difficult to accept but don't be too hard on him. He doesn't understand what we've been through or what his father did to thousands of people. But I know…that he's different. He just needs a steer in the right direction."_

"_Muller's a stubborn kid…I give him that. I'll try and follow your advice but I don't expect this dinner to run smoothly. I won't back down if he decides to start anything with me. I'm only doing this because of Claire's relationship with Sherry. I still can't believe we fought over this."_

"_I'm sure you'll reconcile with her eventually." She assured him with a smile. "Now go and enjoy yourself. I'll be fine. Both of you can't stay mad at each other for more than a week."_

_He chuckled at her reasoning. "I guess you're right. For now…" Chris placed both hands on her shoulders. "…do what you need to do. You don't have to wait up for me."_

"_I know."_

* * *

• • •

* * *

He was gone and she was alone in the roads once more.

Jill drew a deep breath and turned away. She reached for the box that contained the dye and read the instructions in the back.

"Will last more than six weeks…" She repeated out loud. "…yeah…I doubt that."

Rénee was the best name brand that produced the color she wanted the most. It matched her original hue closer than the first one she began using. The current dye had worn out and left her with a dull mess, starting with the roots. She didn't want to wait until it was completely blonde again. It reminded her all too well of the control Albert Wesker had over her actions and the devastation she brought to every village in Africa. She didn't want to be reminded of the transformation she endured once she was brought back to 'life'.

Thousands died because she allowed it to happen.

How many times did she learn to forgive herself? How many times did she try to let go of Kijuju? It didn't matter how many times Chris assured her it wasn't her fault. While she demonstrated signs of recovery over the past four years, the guilt still remained. Even when she moved into the condo space with Chris, she didn't think she could have a normal life again. It took time for her to learn how to forgive herself.

* * *

• • •

* * *

**Washington, 2010—9:00 am**

_She couldn't recall the last time she ate bacon and eggs. It was a long time ago; however she wasn't sure how long. It was more than enough to wake her up. Jill turned over, only to find Chris was no longer by her side. It was the first time they settled down since Africa. She didn't think it was possible to have a relationship, not after the trials they have been through. _

_A groan escaped her lips._

_He's attempting to cook breakfast at this time…?_

_Chris wasn't a homegrown chef. The small was intoxicating, but was a reminder of his previous attempts to cook edible food. She could only imagine it was the 'breakfast in bed' routine. It was their first day in the new condo, after moving from Arkansas. Chris said he had something planned but refused to let her in on it. She could only imagine it could involve one of the two things—a day in bed or shopping. Fortunately, she was right about the first option and the second option was still a possibility._

_Jill allowed herself a few minutes to arch her back and stretch her remaining limbs before she dragged herself out of the bed. She glanced at the alarm clock Chris had set the night before. It was nine o'clock, Friday morning and the beginning of their brief vacation from the B.S.A.A. _

_Her eyes soon traveled across the rest of the room._

_Various boxes stuck out against the wall, some unpacked, while others were sealed with tape. They still had work to do, but this was a lazy day and she wanted nothing more than to relax. The condo was breathtaking, with the view of the trees and mountains further away. It was near a lake and a slice of the interstate highway in Washington. She never considered the idea of moving, however Chris convinced her that it was for both of their sakes. They were engaged and he was determined to make it work, even if it meant one step at a time. _

"_You slept like a baby last night."_

_A voice came from the doorway. She jumped at the sudden noise. Chris was leaning against the doorway, his arms folded, His genuine smile lit up the room. She never told Chris how good he looked in a Yankees jersey or denim jeans. He was clean shaven, as muscles rippled from the shirt. Chris maintained his boyish charm, a quality she admired since S.T.A.R.S. Of course it got him in trouble but usually she was there to save the day. _

"_I did?" She returned the smile as her eyes focused on him. "…I guess that's a first."_

_His eyebrows furrowed at her response. "Is something wrong?"_

_Jill shook her head. "No…I just didn't expect to smell bacon and eggs so early in the morning. It was pretty…distracting to say the least."_

_Chris wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. "Yeah, well this was supposed to be a surprise and you're not supposed to be awake. I thought you would have slept longer and ignore that lovely smell downstairs."_

_She chuckled at his response and slapped his chest. "You're silly…you know that? There's no way I could have ignored your handiwork downstairs."_

_His shoulders dropped in mock exasperation. "I guess my operation failed."_

_They both laughed as they surveyed the bedroom. It was the only one that didn't need refurnishing. The floor was a deep mahogany finish, and matched the dresser and closet. A combination of alabaster finish and pinewood made up the walls, the top of the ceiling and the door. There was a space for a flat screen television set but they didn't have the chance to set that up. A few clothes were in the closet but they didn't unpack the rest of them either. She needed a brand new wardrobe as well. Chris said they would go shopping next week but they could start as early as Saturday—it was her choice. _

_The kings sized bed was the only thing they did manage to set up._

"_Now I know what you're thinking," Chris began, as he stared down at her. "…I probably incinerated the kitchen but I assure you that breakfast went as planned. Well, minus the burnt toast and the bed part because you're awake but for the most part, it was okay."_

_She arched a brow. "Burnt toast? Are you trying to convince me or yourself that everything was okay?"_

_He rolled his eyes. "For God's sake Jill…the toast wasn't that bad. I just…fell asleep at the table and forgot about it. But that's beside the point. What, you don't think I didn't make an effort downstairs to cook my fiancée breakfast? C'mon Jill, give a man credit here."_

_A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned against his chest. "Well, I didn't hear the fire alarms go off so I guess it's safe to say you pulled it off."_

"_You have absolutely no faith in me, do you?"_

_A ghost of a smirk touched her lips. "Of course I do. I'm just kidding. By the way, I thought you said Claire was coming over this weekend?"_

_There was a pause before Chris spoke. "Yeah…about that—well apparently my dear sister has plans. TerraSave has their annual charity event and somehow it popped up just when I was asking her to help us out so we're on our own."_

_She could sense disappointment behind his words. "We can handle it," she said, patting him on the back. "I'm sure we'll get something done today."_

_Chris brightened up. "Yeah…I guess we can but we still have some boxes up here and downstairs. Plus we have some refurnishing to do in the other rooms. But first, we need a hearty breakfast. I don't want my hard work to be in vain."_

_This time, Jill rolled her eyes. "I'll be downstairs in a minute. Just let me shower first."_

_Chris nodded. "Just don't take long…I did like the way the bacon came out."_

_She pulled away from his chest, a hand on his hips. "I certainly hope you're not depriving your fiancée of bacon Agent Redfield."_

_He raised a finger to his chest. "…Who me? I'll leave some, I swear."_

"_You better."_

_She watched as he smirked and left the room. "Well the eggs aren't bad either—"_

"_Chris!"_

* * *

• • •

* * *

Jill closed her eyes, only to open them again. It was only a memory of a life she believed was maintainable-no she thought they could maintain it together. Chris did everything he could to make things normal for them, but it was never the same. Now, with the outbreaks and the global threat of a new Umbrella, it was as if the nightmare had only begun again. It was difficult to accept everything that was happening now. It was difficult to accept that the man responsible for her torture had a son. She met with Jake Muller at Pier's funeral last month when he sat with Sherry during the church service. They were among friends and relatives Piers grew up with, as well as several B.S.A.A agents and military personnel.

She found herself staring at him across the aisle. She would have been a fool to deny that he was handsome. He wore a sharp dark suit, with a blood red tie. A scar ran down the middle of his face and complimented the short red hair. He listened to the reverend as he continued the sermon. The service was outside, because of the sudden change in weather. Rain dominated the skies before the clouds diminished and gave way to sunlight. She also couldn't deny the irony of the weather pattern during the past few weeks. The morning was either plagued with a periodic thunderstorm or retained a somber undertone.

Mother Nature wept for the lives that were stolen from the planet and demonstrated her wrath each time. It wasn't unusual to be faced with a violent thunderstorm at night. Tonight, however was different. She was able to move about the condo without the fear of a blackout.

Jill opened the box and spilled the contents on the sink. Everything was there—the hair dye, conditioner and other essentials to make the color treatment permanent. She had just enough time to mix everything and get it done before Chris arrived.

The bathroom was large enough to suit the needs of two people. A walk in shower, complete with a bathtub granted her leisure time and doubled as a steam room. Blue rustic tiles hugged the walls and floor, with the exception of the white outline that traced around each tile surface.

The décor was near perfection.

It was another area both she and Chris chose to ignore as well when they were redecorating. Her bathroom, not to mention the rest of her apartment back in Arkansas was nothing compared to this. She learned that the B.S.A.A was part of the reason why they were able to afford the costs of living here. The other half came from Chris and the money he had saved over the years. They were at a strategic location, which allowed them to not only reach the capitol but granted them a period of privacy, when needed.

She couldn't argue with the location—it did give them a chance to breathe.

Jill stared at the four packets before selecting one. A part of her wanted to continue, while the other half didn't feel like going through the process once again.

_Maybe I should have done this last night…_

Before she could envisage her next move, the phone rang inside the bedroom Chris reserved for a home office. The place was a mess, with various maps and files strewn across the desk and on the floor. Chris spent his nights in the room when he couldn't sleep, or took the comfort of the entertainment center downstairs. He always did it in a way that didn't interrupt her while she was asleep. It was only in the morning did she miss him snoring away by her side.

She didn't know why the phone would ring from the office, unless it was an emergency. Very few people had immediate connections to their number, with the exception of Leon, Claire, and trusted B.S.A.A personnel.

_Well…unless it was an emergency…_

She wouldn't have been surprised if there was one.

Jill left the bathroom and made her way towards the office. Her bare feet padded across the pinewood as she reached the last room in the hallway. She flicked on the switch and entered the room. The same pile of files and maps greeted her once she reached the desk. A large armchair was present, stacked with files as well. The scent of fresh paint hung in the air, along with the faint hint of air freshener. Chris decided to go along with a mustard-colored paint after he didn't like the white finish a week ago. A few pictures decorated the walls and were suitable enough for a home office.

A printer, scanner, stapler and a jar of pens could be found among the carnage. Jill combed through the mess until she was able to find a black cordless phone. How she was able to find it, she'll never know. She knew that Chris was messy at times, but she didn't expect this,

_That's it…he's going to clean this mess once he gets home. I could just imagine him landing on his face right now in the middle of this room._

She answered the call on the fifth ring. "Redfield."

Jill was met with static on the other end. It was faint, but was enough to convince her that no one was there.

_That's strange…why is there static on the other end?_

She tried again. "Redfield."

Again, there was no response.

"Hello, is someone there?"

The silence mocked her once more.

Jill frowned. She couldn't assume it was a prank call and she doubted that anyone with their number would be dumb enough to pull one, not on her watch.

…_What the hell…?_

A cackling sound was heard, followed by a dull buzzing sound that was soon cut short. The only thing she heard was the sound of her heart pounding away at her chest.

Her eyes narrowed. The caller must have been cut off, but this was suspicious, even for her. During her years of experience and training, she had learned never to underestimate any given situation.

Jill hung up, and dialed the number to the B.S.A.A headquarters stationed in Washington. She would have to find out if it was someone from the office. It couldn't have been Leon, Claire, or even Chris for that matter. If it was an emergency, Leon would have contacted Chris on his cellphone, since he knew about Sherry's small dinner party and Chris and Claire would have called her cell phone.

Somehow, Jill couldn't help but feel something was wrong.

Before she could react, darkness enveloped the condo.

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

** Location: **Washington

******Time: **10:18pm

* * *

He found him near the railing, a beer in hand. It took everything in him not to utilize his own form of behavioral management. Jill's words reverberated in his mind with each step he took.

_He doesn't know anything…but that doesn't stop him from causing trouble. He should be the one to approach me…not the other way around._

He was tempted to just go home without Claire and let her find her way back to the condo but knew it would only spark another fight. He didn't have the energy to deal with Jake Muller, not after what happened at the dinner table. Dinner had finished on a solid note, but it didn't mean they were 'friends', or even 'allies'. The kid was just as stubborn as his fucking father. Once dessert was over he left the kitchen, but not before swiping three beers from the fridge and made his way towards the patio in the backyard.

Claire encouraged him to go after Jake and Sherry wasn't against the idea. So now, he found himself on the patio and staring at Jake's turned back. It was a clear night for once, with the temperature in the low sixties.

Chris cleared his throat and was about to speak, until Jake spoke first. "…I knew the girls would have sent you out here sooner or later. I was sincere when I apologized back there. I just wasn't in the best mood at that dinner table so just leave me alone and go home."

This wasn't going to be easy.

He could already tell.

_It was a stupid idea to come out here. This kid is like a goddamn brick wall. He doesn't know what he wants anymore and I doubt he'll listen to me…_

Minutes passed, before Chris replied. "…They didn't send me out here. I came on my own accord. You and I need to talk and we're going to settle this, once and for all. You're stubborn, I give you that. But I'm not leaving until this ends between us. Understood?"

Jake laughed, but he didn't turn around. "Oh yeah? So what did you have in mind? Arm wrestling? Typical barfight…except we're actually not in a bar? Hold on, let me finish this beer first before we get down to business—"

"You keep this up and I'll make damn certain that you're shipped out of this country faster than you can breathe. Don't think I don't have the authority to end your little charade here. Now you either listen to me or I won't hesitate to carry that out."

"So now you're threatening me Redfield?" This time, Jake turned around to face him. "Sherry was the one who vouched for me to stay here so I don't think you'll get too far with your so-called authority—"

"Then why did you come back with her? Let me guess, love? In that case, I suppose you didn't want answers after all, otherwise you wouldn't be like this with me."

Jake's eyes narrowed. "I would have approached you on my own time. I never wanted this fucking dinner."

Chris didn't back down. "And neither did I Jake. But we're here so cut the bullshit."

A period of silence followed. Jake's gaze bore into him as they stood inches from each other. None of them moved a muscle. Chris couldn't tell whether his words got through to him or he was about to retaliate with another stubborn retort. Already, it had been a long day and exhaustion was starting to get the best of him. If he could wrap this up now, he would use every opportunity to do it.

Minutes passed before Jake turned away and reached down. He grabbed one of the beers and tossed it to Chris. "…That's something we can agree on."

Chris caught the Budweiser and made his way towards the railing. "So…are you ready to talk or at least hear me out?"

Jake took a long swig of his beer. Chris watched, as the bottle left his lips. "…Fine. I don't really have a choice anyway. Sherry is pissed off and your sister's been glaring at me since dessert."

"Your actions were uncalled for, but it doesn't matter now. What matters is that we settle down and talk about this. I meant what I said Jake…I never viewed you as a monster. You're right—you're nothing like your father and will never be."

Jake snorted. "Could've fooled me Redfield."

Chris shook his head. "Maybe your anger towards me is warranted. Maybe I should have been the one to approach you instead. But I wanted you to be the one to do it. Why did you wait until now?"

"You try dealing with the fact that your blood saved the lives of millions and then you find out that you're the bastard child of a psychopath. I needed time Redfield….to think. I couldn't just rush up to you and demand information at the same time."

Chris was silent.

For once, Jake was honest with him. It wasn't long before he realized that the resentment towards him was nothing more than a defense mechanism. It was present during Pier's funeral and remained with him until now. Jake didn't have a problem with him; this was just his stubborn form of tutelage.

"…Raccoon City was the beginning of this mess." He spoke once more.

Jake glanced at him. "What?"

Chris took a deep breath and started again. "Raccoon City is the reason why we're faced with the presence of a resurrected Umbrella. Your father—Albert Wesker was the captain of the S.T.A.R.S unit. It was meant to be an elite force that was created to assist the Raccoon City Police Department and in covert operations. It was split into two teams—Alpha and Bravo. I was on the Alpha team with Jill. He was a mentor to both teams and I respected him, despite the hell he put us through. But none of us knew that he was a double agent for the original Umbrella Corporation. He worked to gain our trust, only to betray us in the end. Being the captain…was only a façade."

"We received word about murders that occurred in the Arklay Mountains. Bravo Team was sent in to investigate, but we never heard from them again. Alpha Team was dispatched soon after and it became a search and rescue mission. What we found was unlike anything we had ever seen before. From there, we discovered a mansion up in the mountains. It wasn't long before I realized that the man I once respected was nothing more than a heartless son of a bitch who sacrificed the lives of his own men to further his agenda. Your father intended to use us as guinea pigs for the monsters Umbrella created. We were nothing more than disposable waste. Many died that night, and to this day I never forgave myself for what happened."

"Wesker's final act of betrayal was to unleash a bioweapon known as the tyrant against the ones who survived. But the monster turned against him and we were able to destroy it before the mansion exploded. From there, Raccoon City became the feeding ground for the dead—an entire town destroyed. Millions of people lost their lives that day—men, women and children. I thought your father perished in that explosion, until I found myself on Rockfort Island. Claire had been captured by Umbrella and I did everything I could to rescue her. Wesker attacked the island and was responsible for yet another outbreak. It was then that I found out that he was no longer human. Based on the database the B.S.A.A has on the original Umbrella, he injected himself with a virus William Birkin left for him."

"Sherry's father," Jake said.

Chris nodded. "They were friends…not to mention close colleagues. Wesker had become a dangerous bioweapon— with enhanced speed and strength. I was no match for him, and could have died that day along with Claire. But we managed to survive and escaped the island before detonation. Umbrella had their ways of getting rid of evidence, not to mention anyone who knew the truth about them. In the years that followed, I vowed to dismantle Umbrella and make them pay for what they had done to Raccoon City. I dedicated myself to the anti-bioterrorism cause. I also vowed to find your father and bring him to trial for his crimes against humanity. But it was easier said than done—he became a ghost after Rockfort Island but it didn't change the fact that he was the shadow behind every major bioterrorist attack. He commanded his own army of mercenaries and used them as pawns in his sick, twisted game. I became the center of his obsession. I knew that he would use anyone, including my own sister against me…to see how long I could last before my cause died with me."

"Years later, I became the cofounder of the B.S.A.A, along with Jill and our closest allies. Our main headquarters is in London but we have connections throughout the world, including Washington. Our first major assignment was to apprehend Oswell E. Spencer—Umbrella's founder and the man responsible for the Umbrella's operations in the first place. He would have led us to Wesker's location. We had enough information to pinpoint his coordinates—they led us to Europe. We found ourselves in another mansion, but didn't know what awaited us there. Jill and I were partners during the operation. Eventually we were faced with dead bodies and the stench of blood. We recognized them as Spencer's personal bodyguards. That wasn't the only thing we were faced with. The entire mansion was a death trap."

"By the time we found Spencer, he was already dead. Your father killed him and stood there, as if he anticipated our arrival. Jill and I didn't waste any time before we took action. I wanted to end all of it that night—the pain he had caused to thousands of people, the devastation, and what he had done to Claire. He was stronger than when I faced him at Rockfort Island. Jill and I was no match for him—not even our weapons or our years of training fazed him. He knew everything—our movements, and fight patterns. It wasn't long before I found myself in his grip. I did everything I could to escape, but my efforts were in vain. He would have killed me, if it wasn't for Jill. The last thing I heard was a crash, and she was gone."

Chris opened his bottle of Budweiser and drank, until he was satisfied.

He continued on. "Jill was dead—it was something I was forced to bear. During her…'funeral', I bore the guilt I swore not to bear since Raccoon City. I swore that I would do everything in my power not to lose someone close to me ever again. Jill was the closest thing I ever had—along with Claire, Rebecca, and Barry. After that 'funeral', my life spiraled out of control. I would drink every night, only to throw up from hangovers the next morning. Leon was the only one who pulled me out of the gutter and made me realize that I still had something left to fight for. I swore on my life that I would avenge her death."

"Three years later after the operation, I was partnered with a woman named Sheva Alomar. She was my new partner and was part of the branch of the B.S.A.A in Africa. A new pharmaceutical giant-Tricell had emerged and was suspected to be responsible for a series of outbreaks in a village known as Kijuju. Once again, I was faced with a new species of bioweapons I had never faced before since Raccoon City and Rockfort Island. I soon realized that Tricell wasn't just behind the outbreaks. A woman named Excella Gionne was part of it as well, not to mention your father. It didn't matter how many times he was 'killed'—he always came back. I also learned that Jill was still alive, but she was brainwashed and became a weapon that Wesker used against me. She was being controlled with a device that was planted in the middle of her chest, not to mention a drug known as P30. Sheva and I had no choice but to pull it out of her chest before she killed us…or it killed her."

"Once we freed her, she told us what Wesker was planning to do. He created a new virus known as Uroboros and was using a jet as a transportation device. He would have killed millions if we hadn't stopped him. This was his twisted way of 'purging' the entire world of weakness and the scourge of humanity. He wanted to create a world where perfect beings ruled, while the weak perished. He was delusional to the point he considered himself a god among men. I made sure that his ideals died with him in Africa. I'd be damned if I allow this nightmare to continue any further."

He waited for a response from Jake, but found none in return. "You said that I acted as if I was the only one that experienced hell the first time. I know about what you've been through—I know about your past. I know how it feels to be betrayed and feel that the entire world was against you from the start. But I never took my anger out on anyone or used it as a way to cover up my pain."

Again, there was no response. Chris watched as Jake's grip tightened around the bottle. He finished what was left of his beer, and was about to leave the patio, when a voice stopped him.

"…Wait."

He paused on the first step.

Jake had grabbed his arm before he could turn away. His head was lowered as if he struggled with the rest of his words. "Maybe…we got off on the wrong track."

Chris didn't contradict him. "…Yes we did."

"...I was wrong about you." This time, Jake shook his head. "I don't like to admit that I'm wrong sometimes and I can be a stubborn son of a bitch but...you were right about me. When my mother died...I had nothing going for me, except a mercenary life. I didn't know anything about my father...or what he put you through."

"It wasn't your fault. I can't blame you for his actions. But I do want you involved in this fight against Umbrella. You and Sherry...can help put an end to this once and for all."

A miniature smirk reached Jake's lips. "Are you offering me some form of employment?"

Chris shrugged. "Depends on what you mean by that. Come around the B.S.A.A tomorrow and I'll see what I can do."

* * *

**Notes**: Whew, this chapter was long, and I do mean long. I decided to split the chapter because it would been much, much longer. You will like the next chapter, trust me.


	6. Chapter 05: Intrusion

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews—I appreciate them. I just want to mention a few things. One, I changed the cover of the story to something more appealing. If you want me to do a cover for your story, don't hesitate to ask-but provide the pictures so I can work on it. I was in a creative mood so I remade the other covers for my stories as well (except for my non-Resident Evil story, which I will do soon). Two, I know no one has mentioned it but I'm well aware of the fact that the main headquarters of the B.S.A.A is in London, but I'm sure they also have an influence in Washington as well.

Finally, I've been noticing a strange trend in my stories as of late. I don't want to make it seem as if I'm complaining or whining but I would appreciate more reviews for this story as well as my other stories. Believe me, I love the favorites and alerts but feedback also keeps me motivated. These chapters aren't always easy to work on and they take some time. Even if it's a simple comment, I don't mind. You don't have to sign in to leave feedback either. I accept anonymous reviews as well, as long as they're not insults or flames.

* * *

_A laugh nefarious that needs no name_

_Its owner swift behind, a-horse, is heard._

_His minions burrow, slither, soar; from all __directions_

_Flocking at their master's word_

**_Unknown_**

* * *

[**Chapter 05: **Intrusion]

* * *

|**Location: **Washington|

**Time:**10:45pm

* * *

The silence was deafening in the condo.

Jill was frozen in place, her mind racing. A part of her wanted to believe it was a sudden blackout, but she knew that was impossible. Chris was responsible for the utility bills and they would have been notified if there were any changes to their cost of living. It wasn't often that they had sudden blackouts, except during extreme weather conditions. The rest of her instincts, however leaned towards the latter—a possible home invasion.

She didn't waste any time.

Jill ran out of the room and towards the master bedroom. Her service issued Beretta was in the bottom-most drawer of the dresser, along with her B.S.A.A shield. She yanked the entire drawer from its hinges and grabbed the weapon. Her fingers coiled around the cool surface of the metal. A small flashlight soon followed as she left the room. She initiated a combat stance and made her way towards the staircase, the flashlight out in front of her. The living room was dark, with the exception of moonlight that penetrated both windows. Jill could only make out the coffee table, chairs and the sofa, which each step she took. Goosebumps dominated her bare arms and back, due to the central air that was turned on last week.

Spring had visited Washington early, as well as other parts of the United States.

She only wore a white spaghetti shirt and blue teddy-bear imprinted pajama pants. It was a Christmas gift from Chris two years ago because he remembered her love for stuffed animals.

Nothing was unusual or out of place, as Jill reached halfway down the arched staircase but she didn't intend to lower her guard. The silence followed her, as it continued to beguile her actions. It was the first time she held the Beretta since her reinstatement. The first thing on her agenda was to check the front door and the back door leading to the patio. Then, she would check the basement and the switchboard. It was too soon to assume that the loss of electricity was a simple malfunction but it didn't hurt to do a thorough search.

Jill continued on with each deliberate step until her feet reached the wooden floor. She moved towards the front door and checked the locking mechanism. It was intact and the chain was in place. She double locked the door when Chris and Claire left for the night.

_Just what the hell is going on…?  
_

She left the door and made her way to the window. Jill's heart reverberated against her chest, just as before as she peeked through the blinds. There was nothing outside that was out of the ordinary, as far as her eyes could see. Layers of trees surrounded the condo and granted them an exquisite view of Washington nature. The chirps of crickets and other signs of life could be heard from her location.

Jill pulled away from the window and filed towards the kitchen. The wood was smooth against her bare feet. She wanted to believe it was a nightmare or it was another sleepwalking session but it felt real. She hadn't been through nightmares or engaged in sleepwalking since her recovery. In a flash, she recalled a brief conversation with Leon weeks after the outbreaks in Langshiang and Tall Oaks.

"_You should be safe here with Chris, but we still have to be on our guard. I'm sure they got the message that we're coming after them but they won't hesitate to strike first."_

His words couldn't have been truer, as she neared the entrance-way The low hum of the refrigerator oscillated along the walls. Nothing was out of place. The kitchen was composed of steel and rustic colors. Everything was the way he left it—the pot of coffee in the coffeemaker and breakfast dishes in the sink. She didn't have the chance to place them in the dishwasher and would have dealt with them after she finished upstairs.

Now, her plans changed.

She was in the middle of a dark condo with a Beretta and a small flashlight.

Jill inspected the glass slide door that led to the patio. It was also secured and locked in place.

_Maybe I'm overreacting…_

Overreaction got the best of her after she returned to the states. She remembered the months that were spent at the B.S.S.A sponsored safe houses before she was released and began living with Chris. Whenever she tried to let go and settle down, her life was disrupted again. Raccoon City, West Africa, Tall Oaks, Edonia, China—it was proof enough that she had to be on her guard. But she couldn't find anything wrong with her surroundings.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Even the feeling of being watched crept into her subconscious.

She turned away and traced her way back to the living room. Before she could take another step, three canisters shattered the windows behind the sofa and landed on the floor. Jill's eyes widened, once she caught sight of them.

_Tear gas…_

They were normally used to disperse a crowd, but they were also used to draw someone out in the open. Her instincts kicked in as she dove behind the wall of the kitchen for cover. A hail of gunfire erupted in the living room. Jill slid down and pressed against the counter for support. Bullets rained down in every direction, as the condo was transformed into a firestorm. Smoke rippled from the canisters that were thrown inside and reached the kitchen faster than she could use her shirt as a protective barrier against the toxic fumes. Tears sprung from her eyes and dribbled along her chin. She gasped for air and rushed to compress the shirt around her face. She couldn't react, not when the gas blinded her field of vision. Her only option was to reach the patio.

The tear gas would make quick work of her if she didn't move her ass.

Jill clenched her teeth and dropped to the floor. She crawled with every ounce of strength she could muster. The Beretta and flashlight was still in her possession, as she worked her way towards her goal. She could still hear gunfire. Glass fragments exploded upon impact and led her to determine the weapon of choice for her assailants. An _M4 Carbine V7 LW_ contained enough firepower to level a house in seconds, let alone kill someone foolish enough not to take cover. Whoever her assailants were, they wanted her alive, otherwise they would have killed her as soon as she crossed into their line of fire.

She wouldn't grant them a sense of gratification in capturing her.

Jill reached the slide door and grasped the clip. A touch of summery air drifted inside as she pulled. Her conditions were uncomfortable, but it was better than becoming a pincushion for the bullets that marred the condo. She continued her straggle towards the patio. The battered wood brushed against her skin but she ignored it. Jill reached the edge of the patio and rose to her feet. She broke off into a run and bolted towards the smooth paneled exterior of the condo. She leaned against the surface and rounded the corner. The backyard led to the front of the condo and would give her a small advantage at least.

They weren't amateurs—that much she knew. It wouldn't be long before they finished their assault on the condo.

She didn't have many options and time was of the essence.

Jill held the Beretta and flashlight close to her chest. She inched to the edge of the paneled wall. As she advanced, Jill heard voices. One belonged to a female, the other male. They spoke in a foreign tongue—Jill suspected it was German dialect. She learned some German during her years of training before she joined the S.T.A.R.S unit. Just as she anticipated, the firefight ceased for the time being. Within minutes, they would begin their search for her inside of the condo.

Their voices were low, but she was able to make out every word that was said.

"Sie ist nicht so dumm wie Sie denken."

"Das wird keine leichte Aufgabe."

"Sie ist nicht so dumm wie Sie denken. Das wird keine leichte Aufgabe, Heidern. Ich will keine unnötigen Unfälle."

"Wie ich schon sagte, wir sollten sie nicht unterschätzen. Aber ich habe nicht vor, mit leeren Händen zurückzukehren. Er reisst uns den Kopf ab wenn wir versagen und sie nicht schnappen."

"Erledige einfach den Job. Kapiert?"

"Schon verstanden."

_Him…?_

Jill's fingers trembled. She was able to decipher most of the words. Memories began to resurface, before she had a chance to dispel them from her thoughts. Torture, the sound of 'his' voice against her ear, the screams of her victims—no, she _heard_ wrong. The word 'pet' could have meant anything—it didn't matter now.

She shook her head and reached the edge of the panel. At least five armed soldiers were on standby. They were clad in black, down to their face. They wore gas masks and infrared night vision goggles. They were far from the usual callous soldiers that barked when given a command, only to get themselves killed.

Each of them carried an _M4 Carbine V7 LW_, just as she predicted. They stood in place, as they awaited further instructions from their superior.

Jill could only assume it was the leader of the unit that had spoken to the woman. He was dressed in similar attire as his men, however the woman was different. She was dressed in a skin tight leather suit. It bore a resemblance to the attire she was forced to wear during her control in West Africa. The woman's short, sleek hair was just as indistinct as her attire.

She couldn't see her eyes, but she noticed that the woman also wore a gas mask. It didn't take her long to pinpoint the noticeable symbol on each soldier's uniform. The blood red and white insignia stood out against the moonlight that bathed the condo.

_Neo-Umbrella…_

It wasn't the first time she had seen it. She viewed her share of reports on 'The Family' and the supposed 'revival' of Umbrella. It would be a cold day in hell before they got their hands on her.

If she was going to act now, she would have to make every second count.

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

|**Location: **Washington|

**Time: **11:05 pm

* * *

"…I didn't think you could do it."

Claire's voice broke through the silence in the dark Toyota Camry. It was the first time she had spoken to him since they left Sherry's condo. They were in the middle of a brief traffic congestion on the highway, much to his annoyance. It was the second time for the evening and he was seconds away from abandoning the dinner invitation. Claire's frigidity didn't help the situation either. He was certain that she was still angry with him over the incident at the dinner table. Claire only tried to lighten the altercation between him and Jake when she had mentioned his mishaps in the kitchen but he had given her the cold shoulder.

He wanted to apologize to her, but Claire told him to forget it.

"_I know…you were trying to diffuse the situation at the table but Jake started this. I told you it wasn't a good idea and yet you wanted to drag me out here in a time like this—"_

"_Just…leave it alone, I don't want another fight to break out between us, not in front of Sherry. Whatever happened… happened already. I don't want to have a discussion over it."_

"_Claire—"_

"_Go talk to him. It needs to end now."_

Chris glanced at her. Claire's hands were folded against her chest as she stared ahead. "…I did what needed to be done. You were right, he needed to know. I just hope that he makes the right decision. I'm just glad that he has a general understanding of his father's history."

"Sherry told me…that you offered him a position at the B.S.A.A."

"I want him to settle down, now that he's here in the states and being protected. I'll get some strings pulled tomorrow. Sherry wasn't against the idea either. The least I can do is to make sure he stays out of trouble."

"…Meaning?"

"I don't want him to return to his mercenary life. He's still young and has a bright future ahead of him. He's nothing like…his father. I saw it in his eyes tonight. I just wished that this whole situation could have been averted."

His grip wrapped around the steering wheel, tighter than before. He didn't want to mention the name again, not after tonight. Albert Wesker was a disease he didn't want to invoke again. He wanted West Africa to be a past memory, just like Raccoon City and the rest of horrors he faced as a soldier, a co-director, and a captain of the North American B.S.A.A unit. It took everything in him to control his voice when he spoke to Jake. The kid had every right to know where the war against bioterrorism originated from. He needed to know why these wars were waged and why so many perished because one man decided to play god over the lives of countless people.

Emotions threatened to overtake him, as he recalled the lives that were lost and lives that were shattered. He didn't expect Jake to listen to him or take him seriously, not after the stunt he pulled at the dinner table, but the kid had proven him wrong. He recalled what Sherry said to him before he went after Jake out on the patio.

"_I'm sorry about Jake's actions…towards you. He wasn't thrilled about this either but this was one of the few ways I could think of to bring you two together. He's only doing it for my sake."_

There was no mistake that Jake had feelings for Sherry and would do anything to please her. He couldn't deny how close they were together. He understood the relationship well—they had been through and survived hell together in Edonia and China. It wasn't coincidence that she was the reason why Jake left Edonia and came to America to search for her. It reminded him of the relationship he had with Jill. West Africa had brought them closer together and was enough for them to confess the affection they struggled to ignore for years.

"Chris?"

Claire's voice brought him back to the present.

Chris shook his head. "Sorry…was just thinking about something. I'm surprised that you're talking to me now. You do realize that I was sorry about what happened earlier, right? The dinner…and on our way to Sherry's place. It's mostly stress that's getting to me. Sometimes I feel I'm getting too old for this shit. I never expected any of this to happen. After Jill came home…I thought it was over. Now we have a new Umbrella to contend with and the perfect setting for another outbreak."

"I know…Leon spoke to me earlier about you. He doesn't think you'll be able to handle much more if the situation escalates—"

Chris snorted. "What the hell does Kennedy know about what I can handle? He should be the last person to talk."

"He knows enough Chris. And I'm sorry about my comments earlier and the fight we had in the car. We normally don't fight over trivial things…Jill was right."

"The last time we fought, it was over that guy you wanted to bring over for Thanksgiving dinner when you were in college." Chris smirked in her direction. "Seriously, what were you thinking? That guy had more tattoos on him than a biker."

Claire eventually laughed. "You still remember that? Oh c'mon Chris, he wasn't that bad. You just didn't like when he said 'duuuude' instead of your name."

Chris rolled his eyes. "The guy sounded like he was high most of the time. He should have had some respect for authority. I wasn't his 'duuuude'."

"I actually thought it was funny. He didn't take your disapproval well though."

"That guy was such a weirdo…I'm not going to lie. I remembered that time when you came home and told me you broke up with him. I was relieved—believe me I was."

"I know you were. And I have to admit it wasn't my best choice for a boyfriend."

Chris arched a brow. "Oh?"

Claire shrugged and unfolded her arms. "Yeah…I'll be the first one to admit that. But I was young so…"

He reached over to ruffle her hair. "Yes you were. My lovable young sister dating a guy that said 'duuuude' every five minutes…it was so cute."

Claire pulled away and Chris managed to dodge a playful smack that was meant for his head. "Don't you dare Christopher Redfield…keep your hands on the steering wheel and away from my hair."

"You're such a baby, Clarissa Redfield."

"No I'm not!"

A car honked behind them. Chris was about to respond, but instead he focused on the road and inched the car forward before he was forced to stop once more.

"Maybe we should have left earlier," Claire said. "Jill must be worried about us...or wondering what the hell's taking us so long to get back."

Chris reached for his cell phone in the glove compartment. "I told her that we'll probably be late but I guess it wouldn't hurt if we give her a call. It probably wouldn't have made a difference if we left early. It's been hell in Washington for the past few days. I'm just happy that Kennedy got you here in one piece."

"I heard about the chaos in New York. Based on what we've heard on the news tonight…it's only bound to get worse."

He didn't argue with her. She wasn't far from the truth. "As long as Neo-Umbrella and this 'Family' exist, things are going to be rough for a while. People are getting restless and I can't say that I blame them right now."

Claire turned away and glanced at the traffic ahead of them. "I can't blame them either. Let's just hope we get out of this jam before morning."

"Why? You act as if you've never been in a traffic jam before. Remember that time when we played Go—"

Claire didn't allow him to finish. "…Just call Jill already. We'll never get out of this one if I hear you go down memory lane again. And yes, I remembered that and the time dad yelled at you when you were making too much noise during your robot-war showdown in the car."

Chris grinned. "Hey, those were the days. Killer robots and machines threatening to rule the world on the big screen…you couldn't go wrong with that."

Eventually, he stared at the smartphone in his possession. The B.S.A.A changed technology quicker than he changed socks on a daily basis. Each phone was more sophisticated each year. He was just glad that Jill had shown him how to use this one; otherwise he would have lost his mind trying to figure out how to make a simple call. He wasn't technology savvy and was old enough to remember the days where a pen and paper was enough for communication. Technology be damned...there were times where he also missed the old payphones on each sidewalk.

He began to dial the number to the condo and took note of Jill's instructions. Chris pressed the phone to his ear and waited, a sigh escaping his lips. So far, he was successful in making the first call on his own without Claire's help.

He was met with static.

_That's strange…_

Chris ripped the phone away from his ear and redialed the number. Again, there was static. He tried three more times, but encountered the same result. He didn't know if it was a cruel trick or he was imagining things. If something was wrong with the electricity or service at the condo, Jill would have notified him on her cell phone.

Everything was fine once he left with Claire.

_It couldn't have been a blackout…_

Claire noticed the confusion that spread across his face as her gaze left the rear-view mirror. "Chris…is everything alright?"

Chris hesitated. His grip wavered on the phone.

"Chris? What is it?"

His grip tightened around the phone suddenly. "…I just dialed the number at the condo. There's no dial tone…just static on the other end, like the electricity's been cut or something. I'll try her cell phone."

"But that's impossible. You called Jill earlier when we reached Sherry's place. Maybe there was an outage at the condo—"

"Claire, Washington doesn't have outages like this unless there's an emergency or bad weather. You said so yourself—I spoke to her earlier. Something's wrong."

He didn't give her a chance to respond before his fingers rushed to dial once more.

* * *

**Notes: **This chapter was tough to write. There will be Jake/Sherry in the next chapter, and will be much, much longer. I was going to update a few nights ago but my tax course kept me busy. Plus it's been a while since I've written action. I would like to thank Ravenlaughter for translating the English dialogue into German. The translators online really suck and I couldn't find a good one for that matter.

* * *

**Translations**

**(1) **She is not as foolish as you think she is. This will not be an easy task, Heidern. I do not want unnecessary casualties.

**(2)** She won't escape. My men will bring her to you unharmed but they won't hesitate to use force if she misbehaves.

**(3)** Like I said, we should not underestimate her. But I don't intend to return empty-handed. He will have our heads if we fail to retrieve her.

**(4)** He should have captured her himself. She was once his little pet project.

**(5)** Just get the job done. Understood?

**(6)** Perfectly clear.


	7. Chapter 06: Alive

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, and favorites I have received over the past few days—I really, really appreciate them. I don't mind people placing my stories on their alerts and favorites but feedback keeps me motivated and helps me continue to grow as a writer. I like to get to know my readers and hear what your thoughts about everything whenever I update. As for Liberator, that will be coming back eventually. I'm not a fan of plotholes and I notice that whenever there's a minor hole in my stories, I get writer's block later on—which is why I decided to take down my apocalyptic story for now.

Anyway, this chapter took a good while to work on. Between rewriting some parts (and hot chocolate to keep me going), it's finally here.

* * *

[**Chapter 06: **Alive]

* * *

|**Location:**Washington|

**Time: **11:30pm

* * *

"…So, do I get my reward? The guests are gone; we're alone in this kitchen, and I'm in a good mood right now."

Jake's capable arms wrapped around her torso and drew her close. She could feel the warmth of his body pressed against her, as he pinned her against the wall of the kitchen. His infectious smirk washed over her and was more than enough to draw a smile from her lips. She didn't have a chance to reach the sink before he dragged her away. It was difficult to stay angry with him, not after the way he handled himself outside on the patio and listened to what Chris had to say. Tonight, she was actually proud of him, with the way he had managed to turn the situation around.

As much as she wanted the rivalry to end as soon possible, the patio however had done the trick—thanks to Claire.

The rest of the night ended on a positive note.

She didn't think she would have seen the day where Chris and Jake shook hands, but it was a relief. Despite the brief hesitation that lasted for two minutes, she was pleased to see them at a standstill.

She was able to hug both Chris and Claire, promising to keep in touch. She also sent her regards to Jill and walked them to the door. She watched as they drove away, but not before Claire rolled her eyes over something he said on the way out. She had seen the way Chris treasured her—they couldn't stay mad at each other forever. It wouldn't be long before she found them talking and joking around again.

Chris was more relaxed than she had seen him when he first arrived at the condo, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She even spotted his smile a few times on the patio while he spoke to Jake. It was the initial response she expected from him and served as a white flag. Peace had been achieved and she could only hope that Jake didn't ruin it for the time being.

"Well…I supposed I'll bite." Sherry replied, as she wrapped both hands around his neck. His short, fire-red hair stood out among the fluorescent lights in the kitchen. He was clean shaven, just as she remembered him in Edonia. Sometimes, Sherry wondered if it was sheer luck to involve herself with a homegrown mercenary or it was fate. She didn't expect him to give up everything, but his words from earlier hung over them. She couldn't help, but realize that fate did have its hand in events and brought them closer together. She was ecstatic to learn that Chris had offered Jake an opportunity to work for the B.S.A.A. It may have been an invitation to become a member—she didn't know.

But she knew it was something Jake would considered very carefully.

"…I'm just glad that you were able to settle things with Chris. He's been under a lot of stress, lately…but he means well. He didn't think you were a monster Jake. He wouldn't have offered you a chance to prove yourself if he didn't think you were any good and didn't have any faith in your abilities." **(1)**

Jake's smirk faded, only to be replaced with a groan. "You really couldn't let us have this moment alone without bringing that up, could you? I've already made peace with the guy Sherry. What do you want me to do now, call him back and grovel at his feet? I thought you were okay with how I handled this?"

Sherry shook her head. "Would you relax? I didn't say that. There's nothing wrong with being thankful that you guys didn't obliterate the kitchen during your verbal abuse at the table."

Jake gave her one of his mocked frowns. "You kicked me and right now it still hurts. Just letting you know. But I'm willing to ignore that because I want my reward and it doesn't involve fifty million dollars."

"You deserved that and if you think I'm apologizing, you're wrong. You weren't going to say 'fuck you' in front of my guests and at the dinner table. You promised me that you wouldn't start anything at the table once they arrived—"

"And I made up for it supergirl. So what's the big deal? Thought you were proud of me?"

"I am, but if Chris hadn't gone to the patio after you, this would have been a never-ending battle between you two."

"But it wasn't. I listened to what he had to say and I admitted that I was wrong about him." This time, it was Jake's turn to sigh. "…I felt pretty fucking stupid after dinner. That's why I went out there. I should have been a little more respectful. I didn't mean to ruin your dinner so don't put me in the dog house, okay?"

She wasn't surprised by what came next. Jake had the habit of using his eyes as a way to either drop a conversation or to gain her full attention. Ironically, he gave her a puppy-like expression, enough for her to succumb to him within minutes. It was a gesture she was used to already, due to his attractive nature. It was her kryptonite and as always, it was a signal for his small victory over her.

It was then that Sherry decided to drop the conversation for now. They had enough adventures for one day.

"No, you're not in the dog house." She dragged her fingers along the top of his head. "We'll talk about this later. You're lucky that you're not sleeping on the couch tonight."

"That's only because you couldn't resist me." Jake murmured. "I knew you'd see things my way."

He silenced her with a kiss before she could retaliate. His lips felt balmy against hers, due to the cherry flavored chapstick he used before Chris and Claire arrived. She could feel Jake's hands tugging the corners of her dress, while his tongue pried at her mouth. A moan escaped the back of her throat as she relished the passionate session between them. It wasn't the first time their love making began in the kitchen, only to end up on the couch or upstairs. There was always a trail of clothes that led to the bedroom or the living room in the morning. She would find herself picking them up and dumping them in the laundry room downstairs.

Their tongues became one as each battled for dominance. Her fingers moved from Jake's head, only to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. He began to assist her and unfastened each one that was in the way. His shirt was tossed aside, exposing the lean muscle underneath. Scars marred his torso and shoulders, some old while others were still fresh. She recalled the stories he told her while they were in bed and had learned to appreciate him more. There were times where she wanted to imagine their time in Edonia was only a figment of her imagination; that Derek Simmons had never given her the assignment in the first place. Her former director's name still chilled her to the bone. Even to this day, she was convinced that he was nothing more than a bulwark for the true leader for 'The Family' and Neo-Umbrella.

There were still unanswered questions, but they would have to wait until she returned to work next week.

Jake broke off the kiss—much to her disappointment, and stared at her dress. "…That needs to go, supergirl," he said with a boyish grin.

Sherry feigned surprise at his comment. "…Really? And who's going to take this off?" She pointed down at her dress. "You're going to do it?"

"Is that a challenge?" His eyebrow rose, as if daring her to prove him otherwise. It was a game they played, just to see how long it would take before any of them was fully undressed. In the living room, a musical number could be heard on the stereo. She had heard the song more than once, and it was from her favorite album. **(2)**

"Depends on what you believe is a challenge."

**[_I was afraid to let you in here_**

**_Now I have learned love can't be made in fear_]**

She watched as his fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress. "Then maybe we should get down to business."

Her body quivered from his touch, as he slipped the dress from both shoulders. Sherry's breath was lodged in her throat once he began undressing her. She couldn't deny the romantic thoughts that penetrated her thoughts when she chose the album, after Chris and Claire left. A part of her wanted to believe she was too engrossed in romance novels, where the music played during a passionate night of love-making, while the other was lost in the moment between them. How many times did her mind cease to function whenever they came this close together? It had been two months since Jake arrived in the United States, and yet it still felt like it was the first time.

He continued his handiwork, until the dress fell to her waist. "Well I'll be damned." He was staring at her strapless laced bra. The red flew to her cheeks once more, as he teased a nipple underneath the lace with his finger. "You were planning on making this reward easy, weren't you?"

**[_Catch me, don't let me drop…_**

**_Love me, don't ever stop…_]**

"Maybe I was." She teased. "Isn't it funny that this almost always starts in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, well I don't see you complaining about it."

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that."

He leaned in, and planted a trail of kisses along her neck. "Not only are you a supergirl, you're a mind reader? You never cease to amaze me."

"Maybe…" She gasped, as he nipped at her neck. "…we should…take this…upstairs. The dishes in the sink…are distracting me…"

"Just forget them." Jake muttered under his breath. "Don't even look over there. I'll help you wash them in the morning."

"…You better…"

"I swear…I won't leave you hanging. Scouts honor." He promised, and continued the assault on her neck.

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

**Location: **Taipei, Taiwan

**Time: **12:30pm

* * *

"You're quite the remarkable woman, Ms. Wong."

She didn't know whether to be flattered or amused by his attempts to begin the discussion between them. She should have known this meeting was special. While she thought it was rather dainty for the man to gain an audience with her, it was even more important to see whether it was worth her time or not. Her coy remark about a free schedule hadn't gone unnoticed by the one seated in front of her.

It started as a simple phonecall, with a mysterious caller. From what she learned, he was only known as 'Alex'. **(3)** Whether it was his real name or an alias, Ada couldn't help but admire his accent. It wasn't often that she encountered an attractive man, with a notable tone and knew his way around a foreign country.

She watched, as the waiter arrived with a bottle and two wine glasses. _Chateau Shu-Sheug_ winery was a delicacy in Taipei and was one of her favorite pastimes whenever she was on vacation. She didn't expect, however that a high class restaurant would sell the concoction as well. It appeared that her 'guest' enjoyed the drink as well, and noted that it was something they both had in common, not to mention Taiwanese cuisine. Minutes passed since she arrived at _Haibawang_ and united with her special contact. She didn't expect to be in a restaurant around noon, but it didn't bother her. As long as the meeting had run its course and the offers were worthwhile, she'll just stick around for the time being.

Ada crossed her legs, as a smirk crossed her lips. "As much as I enjoy the attention, this meeting better be worth my time. It's too precious to be wasted, although I suppose I'll entertain myself with a handsome man such as yourself."

She received a soft laugh in response. "Who's doing the flattering now?"

"I was being truthful, of course."

"And so was I. But I won't waste your time with mere compliments. Our meeting is more important than that. You see, my employer has told me some interesting things about you. He was pleased with your performance in Liangshang. I'm sure you know who I represent. It would be a shame if you didn't guess by now."

Ada waited until the waiter left their table. She didn't need to decipher his meaning. Her only dealings were with 'The Family' –the ones that controlled Neo-Umbrella. After Liangshang, they became nothing more than ghosts in a dormant shell. With the B.S.A.A and every other government agency aware of their presence, it didn't surprise her that they were quiet for a while. After Simmons and Carla went rogue, she was certain that they would regroup immediately. Then again, two months was just as good for them to set their plans into motion. Poor deluded Carla—to believe she was actually Ada Wong…not to mention the man that was obsessed with her. As for Simmons, as much as he entertained her while he was still human and alive, he wasn't her type.

It was a pity that she didn't get to meet the glorified leader of 'The Family'. He spoke so 'highly' of her, but didn't give her the chance to return the compliment in full. She would just have to toy with their latest pawn.

"I can imagine the mess that was left behind. I figured it would have taken some time just to reorganize. Funny, I've never met you before. You must be the new lapdog they decided to send instead. So tell me Alex, how did you manage to find me here in Taipei? Don't tell me that 'The Family' has influence here as well."

The hardened stare Alex gave her only served to gratify her further. "You should learn to relax pretty boy. I was only being truthful, after all." She reached forward and took her glass between her fingertips. Ada took a sip, before settling the glass on the table. "But I have to admit that you have taste. I've never been to this restaurant before."

She observed her surroundings, just like she usually did when she arrived at a distinct location. The restaurant was indeed exquisite consisting of pinewood, alabaster, and rich emerald green. Red carpeting with oriental design marked the floors, with the exception of the reception area that was quartered off from the rest of the restaurant. The seats were comfortable, with blood red cushions and a atramentous shade of wood. Each table was covered with lily white sheets and was napkins that were just as cerise as the cushions. Sunlight filtered through each vacant window and tables that were available. It was imperturbable and for a moment, she felt like the richest woman in the world. Working for her former employers did have their share of luxuries but this was much different.

_At this point, there's nothing wrong with mixing business with pleasure…_

As for her guest, he reminded her of a younger version of Cardinal Richelieu from 'The Three Musketeers'. Shoulder length aphotic hair was slicked down and tucked behind his ears. His features were sharp and well-defined, leaving Ada to wonder why a handsome face would be aligned with Neo-Umbrella in the first place. Hair stubble was visible above his lips and below his chin. He wore an Armani suit, complete with a silk tie. The hint of expensive cologne and aftershave drifted across the table and filled her nostrils.

If there was another thing she admired about Alex, he had the mannerist attitude of a king. His lean frame never wavered for an instant, unlike the other contacts she had dealt with in the past. They cowered under her gaze and stumbled over their words each time they were about to speak. Alex however, was bold and didn't seem perturbed by her presence.

She decided to go with a dark simple, knee length dress with a pocketbook and shoes to match. There was no need to overdress, especially when this little meeting was bound to end quicker than she could order lunch.

A cold smirk emerged from Alex's lips. "I would take our meeting seriously, if I were you Ms. Wong. My employer may be familiar with your ways but I don't take kindly to witty responses. And you would be surprised by our presence throughout this world. It was quite simple to track you down, of course. I heard that you were the best at what you do and I would hate to be disappointed."

"I'm sorry, but I've always enjoyed mixing business with pleasure. You should try it sometime—it could be a lesson in the future. You're a very serious man Alex. Again, learn to relax and you won't take offense so easily. Though I am curious about how your employer is so familiar with my ways. We haven't even met."

"But you will in due time."

The sarcasm cascaded from her words like a waterfall. "I would be honored."

"But that isn't why we're here at this establishment. We have a special assignment for you."

Ada's eyebrow rose. "Oh? And what makes you think I'll accept it?"

"It would be in your best interest, Ms. Wong. Once I reveal the details, I know you would be unable to walk away from the money it will yield in the end."

"Well, well you've done your homework."

"With a dangerous woman on the loose such as you, I didn't have much of a choice. I'm sure you're aware of a certain B.S.A.A solider that was supposedly 'killed' in the line of duty."

"Plenty of B.S.A.A soldiers were killed in the line of duty. Some were killed through careless fire; many others were ripped apart by rampaging BOWs. You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid."

"Don't play stupid Ms. Wong. I know you're smarter than that."

"Now why would you think I was doing that?"

Once more, she was met with a timid smirk. "Again, ignorance does not suit you. I'm sure you've heard of a soldier that was close to the captain of the B.S.A.A unit. There was a funeral commemorating his valiant efforts not too long ago. It's a pity that his remaining comrades believe that he's passed away, when he is, in fact still alive. But I wonder how much he does remember about that fateful day."

Ada's eyes widened at his response.

…_That's impossible…_

She had seen the news regarding the death of Piers Nivan. The rest of the information was classified, and the news was just filled with the words the public only wanted to hear. She knew enough about him and his relationship with Christopher Redfield. He was one of the top rookie soldiers of the B.S.A.A and was by his side during their solider-boy missions in Edonia and Liangshang. She had encountered them on a few occasions and had lent a 'helping' hand. But then, there was Redfield's temper and his assertion that she was the culprit behind the obliteration of his men. She was forced to clean up the 'mess' Simmons and Carla left behind. The woman still left a bad taste in her mouth, but it was in the past.

The facility was destroyed and vanished from human view. She didn't know whether Alex was pulling her strings or telling the truth. Redfield may have been a seasoned veteran but Piers was the pet rookie of the B.S.A.A.

…_How do they know he's alive…?_

"I knew I would have gotten your attention sooner or later." Alex continued. He took his glass from the table. Ada watched, as the clear liquid swooshed from each corner. "It's good to see that I've managed to render the great Ada Wong speechless. Now I know for sure that you won't refuse this assignment either way."

"How do you know he's alive?" She was able to find her voice once more, as she uncrossed her legs. "The only one that survived that was Redfield—"

"You'll be surprised by how much power Mr. Nivans wielded. But it appears to be dormant, for now anyway. I won't reveal further details until I gain your full cooperation for this assignment. Now that I've gained your attention, that won't be a problem."

"You don't intend to answer my question, do you?"

Alex's glass was placed on the table, just as before. He chose to ignore her question. "Do I have your cooperation then? I would hate to leave this restaurant empty handed Ms. Wong and it would be the first time I didn't follow through on my obligations."

_He knows how to handle himself well…I'll give him that…_

For the first time in years, she was caught between a rock and a hard place, but the odds weren't in her favor.

* * *

**Notes**: Yes, this chapter was supposed to be long, but I decided it would be better to end the chapter here. At least you get some Sherry and Jake goodness, right? This is one of my larger projects so I want to take my time with it one hundred percent. The next chapter will definitely be longer than this one. It took me between Wednesday, Thursday and today to finish this chapter because it took longer than I expected.

**(1)** If you reread Chapter IV (for those who may have missed it), I added a section where Chris makes an offer to Jake.

**(2)** I absolutely love movies, where there's a love scene and music plays in the background. It really emphasizes what's going on and the love that a couple shares during a special moment. This is a mild romance scene, only because of the site's new rules.

**(3)** This is not Alex from the _Wesker Children Project_. This is another original character that's in the story. I don't want to make this story too crowded so there will just be one more original character that will be introduced. This is my version of how Resident Evil 7 would play out so keep that in mind. That's why the story is Alternate Universe. If you want to see a concept image of what Alex looks like, check out my profile.

And err…I know I'm going to be smothered to death with hugs for this chapter so I'm prepared…I think.

Brief song lyrics is from Celine Dion.


	8. Chapter 07: Explosion

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **I don't have much to say, except that this chapter took more than one rewrite. I would like to thank everyone for their reviews once more, especially Emil. This chapter is pretty long, so enjoy.

* * *

[**Chapter 07: **Explosion]

* * *

**Year: **2007

**Location: **West Africa

* * *

"_Do you know why I saved you?"_

_The grip was unbearable, as it locked her in placed. She felt the ends of her hair rip away from her scalp, as tears rolled down her cheeks. He pinned her against the metallic wall of the facility. Inhuman eyes bore into her frightened gaze, with little remorse for her condition. It wasn't the first time she had attempted to escape, only to be met with failure. The punishment was severe this time, and threatened to destroy what was left of her sanity. _

"_You are an investment for me. Allowing you to die would defeat the purpose of live bait. Your fate is already sealed, but of course…I will have to put an end to your insubordination."_

_Her teeth ground together. "…I will never…be…your…investment. I would rather die…!"_

"_Defiance will only prolong the inevitable. Death will not come so easily Valentine. You seem to forget your place quite often in this little game. But that will change, I assure you."_

_A choked laugh escaped from her lips. "…Everything…is a game to you…isn't it? Chris will find out…one way or another—"_

_The pupils contorted in rage. "Don't mention that name in my presence."_

_He threw her to the floor. Her cries resonated along the walls as her back collided with the steel grates. He slowly approached her, forcing her to crawl backwards in a desperate attempt to escape._

"…_Why…are you…doing this…?"_

_Her response was met with a derisive sneer. "I have plans for this world and you will bear witness to each one. I will create a new order, where the weak will perish. You should be honored, Valentine—that is, if you survive long enough. You can be one of the many to witness the dawn of a new era."_

_Her back collided with another wall. "…You're insane…"_

_Within minutes, he stood in front of her. His tone lacked emotion, as he spoke once more. "…There is a fine line between genius and insanity..." His sneer broadened. "...but I have erased that line."_ **(1)**

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

|**Location: **Washington|

**Time: **12:00pm, midnight

* * *

A mercenary wandered out on the patio before she was able to strategize a plan. She knew she was outnumbered, and didn't stand a chance of getting back inside. There was the initial anticipation that they would leave one of their own to search the bottom floor, while they searched upstairs. Jill was forced to work her way towards the crawlspace underneath the patio before she was detected. The flashlight was switched off and placed in the pocket of her pajamas. Jill's heart comminuted against her chest, just as before. She could hear the creaks from the reverberation of the mercenary's boots, until it stopped just above her head.

She loathed the way the dirt felt between her bare feet, but it was irrelevant for now. Minutes passed before she heard his voice over what she assumed was a communicative device.

"Kann die Zielperson nicht entdecken, suche waiter."

"Sie miss hier irgendwosein-findetsiel. Wirgehen hier ncht mit leeren Händen weg. Kapiert?"

"Vastanden."

Her eyes narrowed. _They're searching for me…how fitting…_

Jill heard nothing more from his communicator.

The mercenary grumbled under his breath—emitting a string of German curses. Movement was present once more, but this time it was leaving the patio. Based on the pattern and direction of his boots, she was certain that he would be outside for a while. Jill continued to wait and held her Beretta close. A tall silhouette appeared on the lawn in front of her. His back was turned, as he surveyed the patch of greenery ahead. Chris was into nature—something she didn't expect when they first moved into the condo. He told her that the scenery would be great for her and would aid with her recovery. Each morning, they would jog along the trail, and sat down to rest occasionally. Chris would tell her about the times he went hiking with Claire years ago and how it became one of his favorite hobbies overtime.

Soon, she began to appreciate nature and even took it upon herself to travel along the trail. He was certain that it would grant them a sense of privacy and would eliminate the fears that still plagued her since Kijuju.

She remained undetected for the time being, and blended with the shadows each floor bed provided. Jill shifted from her position, and crept towards the mercenary. If she was going to take action, she would need to act fast.

Jill took a final step forward, her Beretta aimed for the mercenary's back. "Waffe fallen lassen, sofort!"

He froze at her command. She was tempted to end his life, but it would only alert the presence of the mercenaries with him. They didn't know where she was located and she wanted it to remain that way. She would have to retreat to a safe location, where she couldn't be traced and he would give her the answers she needed right now.

"So, you were hiding all along."

The mercenary spoke perfect accented English, and was more amused with her command instead. She had dealt with these types of mercenaries during her years of fighting bioterrorism. They were common among the private armies within the black market and were utilized either to buy time or irritate their captors, all of which she didn't have time for. He wasn't perturbed by her presence or the fact that she had a tactical advantage over him.

"I should have known you were out here somewhere. Your skills are admirable…I must say, I must congratulate you for separating me from my comrades. You knew one of us would come out on the patio. But you won't get far, I assure you."

Jill's grip tightened around her Beretta. "I'm not in the mood for pleasantries. Lower your weapon and stand down or I decorate the grass with your blood…your choice."

She earned a chuckle in return. "Then you'll draw unwanted attention and that would be unwise on your part—"

Jill didn't give him a chance to finish. A click was heard, as her weapon interchanged from his back to his head. "You have a terrible habit of running your mouth. If you think I won't use force against you, then you don't know me very well."

The mercenary stiffened at the sound. She anticipated another response, but found none. He complied with the demand, allowing her to disarm him. His weapon was now in her possession.

"Place your hands above your head where I can see them and move. Don't try anything stupid and you'll stay in one piece."

He obeyed her and began to walk. "…And where do you intend to take me?"

Jill could sense a degree of cynicism behind his words but she wasn't amused and didn't allow it to deter her. She would get answers out of him, one way or another. She didn't know what Neo-Umbrella wanted with her but she was certain that these mercenaries didn't come to extend a warm greeting.

"You are trapped…it wouldn't be long before my comrades catch on. You're clever, but that doesn't change your fate, now does it?"

"_**Your fate is sealed."**_

A sharp, limited pain assaulted her suddenly. It wasn't the first time she had experienced this. Three years ago, her therapy sessions consisted of descriptions of nightmares that were difficult to exemplify and the sounds of 'his' voice in her mind. They were flashbacks, during her time of captivity. She would remember her screams and being under the influence of the drug that controlled every action she was forced to undertake. She would encounter blackouts and brief migraines that seemed to disappear on their own, once she was able to pull herself together. Her therapist insisted that it was part of her post traumatic disorder. She would have to learn how to forgive herself and realize that she was under the influence of something that was beyond her control.

She recalled the discussion between two doctors while she was being cared for at the B.S.A.A. She was treated like a wild animal—prodded for observation and was considered a threat, until Chris was able to convince the board that she was still a part of the team and a member of the B.S.A.A. Even now, she didn't know why the pain would revisit her now. The bouts of migraines had vanished mysteriously, once she began to live with Chris.

…_No…_

Jill shook her head and fought through the pain. It began to subside, much to her relief. "...Keep walking and I'll tell you when to stop. And I don't recall having any fate at this point."

She led him further away from the condo. Pine trees and other signs of vegetation surrounded them as Jill forced him to move. It didn't grant her enough time to interrogate the mercenary but it would have to do. It wasn't long before they reached a clearing in the woods.

"Stop right here." Jill ordered. The mercenary acceded once more; his hands still above his head.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "You can do whatever you want with me but you won't get far, like I've said before. The others will know something is amiss when I don't report on the current situation at hand. We were ordered not to leave this establishment empty-handed. I think you know what that means."

"Turn around." Jill ignored his comment. The mercenary turned around to face her. His infrared sensors bore into her as he stood in place. The assault rifle was trained on him this time. "What the hell does Neo-Umbrella want with me? Who sent you? How did you find this location?"

"You will have to do a lot better than that if you want answers from me—"

Jill rushed towards the mercenary before he could finish his sentence. The end of the rifle was slammed in his face, causing him to stumble backwards from the impact. A kick was soon delivered to his midsection, causing him to double over in agony.

The mercenary gasped for air, as Jill stood over him. "You're forgetting the advantage I have over you at the moment. I'm not in the mood to play your fucking games. I can think of plenty of ways to get the answers I want. Start talking or I'll make you regret your miserable life."

He struggled to his feet. "Feisty…I like that. That's good…I do enjoy a good challenge from time to time. But I am not…afraid of death…you see. I have been…through enough missions…to know the casualties of war. Your threats…mean nothing to me, American."

"Who said anything about death?" Jill gave him a frigid smirk. "I can torture you slowly until I get what I want. It will work out for me either way. Now be a good mercenary and speak. I gave you three questions and you will answer them."

Silence prevailed between them, before the mercenary chuckled once more. "…We…were told that you were special. That's…all. And special you are, indeed."

_Special…?_

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come, you are smarter than this, no? You…are nothing more than a pawn in a little game. Did you think…we would go through this much trouble if your capture wasn't a benefit to us? As for your location…you were being watched for some time. But of course…you weren't the only one that was being watched after all."

_Being watched…?_

She should have seen this coming and yet she was caught off guard. The others were also in danger, if the mercenary was telling the truth. She couldn't warn them, not with the other mercenaries scouring the area.

Before Jill could demand another answer, he continued on. "This is just the beginning of the little scavenger hunt. It won't be long before the hunt widens. It's quite simple to figure out. I would expect a woman of your caliber to decipher my meaning."

Before Jill could press him further, a new voice cut her off. "I would call off this little charade if I were you. We should have known you would try and separate one of us. But unfortunately for you, it didn't work as planned."

Jill's gaze was focused on the owner of the voice, but the assault rifle was still trained on her captive. It didn't take long for her to realize the other mercenaries had arrived, led by the woman that was with them. Their weapons were trained on her as well, ready to pick her off at any given second.

"I won't hesitate to kill him if I have to." She threatened. "You'll stand down if you don't want anything to happen to him."

The woman cocked her head at Jill's words. "You tend to underestimate us, Ms. Valentine. It's a shame that you didn't catch on."

"_**So slow to catch on…I thought you would be happier to see us."**_

Jill's hand flew to her temple, as she fought to remain focused. The migraine had returned—stronger than before. It was enough to give her captive the distraction he needed. The mercenary leapt from his position and grabbed her. A strangled cry escaped her lips as he wrapped an arm around her neck, overpowering her within seconds.

"You see…we know about your little spells, based on your medical reports." He whispered in her ear. "I told you that you wouldn't get far. You would have slipped up sooner or later."

"Let…go of me…!"

Jill struggled against him, but the grip only tightened and prevented her from retaliating. She felt the sudden prick of a needle along the veins of her neck. The liquid took effect, as her vision doubled. She heard the woman commend the mercenary for his efforts, once he retrieved his weapon and took the Beretta away from her.

Darkness consumed her before she had the chance to escape.

* * *

**• • •**

* * *

**Location:**Taipei, Taiwan

**Time: **1:00pm

* * *

"He was last seen in a village off the coast of China. A small group of villagers were able to nurse him back to health. With little memories of his past with the B.S.A.A or the outbreak, you should have no problem apprehending our little test subject. He's staying in the village at the moment."

The smirk on his face disgusted her, but Ada remained silent. He seemed pleased with himself, as he related the information to her. It was an assignment she couldn't refuse, not when _'The Family'_ controlled positions of power around the world. They could have her incarcerated if they wanted to get rid of her. What intrigued her, was their plans for Nivan if he was still alive.

"You will leave for Zhujiajiao three days from now. I intend to hear good news from you Ms. Wong. It would be rather disappointing if you fail, but I know you will get the job done."

Ada stared at the plate in front of her. Various delicacies were spread out, but she didn't have a chance to sample them. The waiter had arrived with the food minutes ago, but her plate remained empty. Alex; however took advantage of the food, as he plucked a fried shrimp fritter from the serving dish.

"You will be given a salary, of course and the luxury of a private plane. You will receive further instructions once you've reached your destination."

Ada finished the rest of her wine. "That sounds very accommodating, and there's nothing I can really complain about, but once I finish this little job—I expect a meeting with your leader. Curiosity always gets the best of me during these situations."

It was only fair that she requested something in return. Curiosity killed the cat, but Ada was anything but a dead cat.

Alex was thoughtful, as if contemplating her demand. Finally, he spoke. "You will get your wish, once you recover Piers Nivan. I'm sure my employer would love to meet you."

Before she could question him further, he rose from the table after finishing his fritter. "I would love to stay and chat, but I have other pressing matters to attend to. Everything at this table is already paid for, Ms. Wong. Do enjoy yourself. We will meet again soon."

He was gone.

Ada watched, as he filed through a couple that was waiting to be seated, before exiting the restaurant. Ada leaned back, her mind occupied. So, she was leaving in three days. It didn't give her much of a vacation to enjoy. There was, however an opportunity to visit her childhood friend. She couldn't recall the last time she had seen Ting. How many years had gone since they had last seen each other? She was a wanted terrorist on the run and didn't give her the opportunity to catch up on old times. Ting had been her friend since elementary school and had lived in Eurasia for some time before she moved to Taiwan with her parents.

She learned about Ting when she first visited Taiwan. She lived in Kaohsiung now, and was married to a lawyer while she was in real estate. They had two children, but Ada couldn't remember their names. Her son was the oldest and was studying Taiwanese law, just like his father. She was able to find out about this through research and the various archives she was exposed to.

Ting didn't know about the nature of her occupation, neither did she want her to get involved. She was a part of her life that she kept private and away from her former employers, including Wesker. Working for him meant protecting everything she had cared for in the past. He was gone now; a victim of playing god. She heard the confirmed reports of his death. She didn't believe it at first, but then again she had learned never to underestimate a Redfield.

Her mind reverted to Alex once more. He was also someone she didn't want to estimate, at least for the time being. He was a wildcard within the black market and became an intriguing man from since their first meeting. While they were getting acquainted with each other, she might as well dig up some information about him.

Ada's smirk returned.

It was, after all what she was good with.

* * *

**• • •  
**

* * *

|**Location: **Washington|

**Time: **12:30pm

* * *

"…Have you thought about children?"

"Hmm?" Jake stared down at her.

"…Children." She repeated once more. "Did you ever think about them or about our future? I mean, once this is over?"

It was something that had plagued her for a while, but she didn't share it with him until now. Already, Sherry could tell he wasn't prepared to give her much of an answer.

"…So, when did this come up?" His eyebrow rose at her first question.

Sherry nestled closer to his chest and drew circles along the chiseled outline of his muscles. They were upstairs in the master bedroom. A sea of purple and white surrounded them, courtesy of the painting that they did weeks ago. There was a new master closet and a dresser, just for them to utilize. She had spent more money on the condo than she had done since she moved in. Jake insisted that she take one day at a time, but she wanted them to be as comfortable as possible.

Just as she predicted, a trail of clothes were left behind. At the corner of her eye, she noticed that her bra was near the foot of the bed. By now, she was certain that her dress was near the bottom of the stairs. As for Jake's clothes, they were left in the kitchen—or at least that's what she remembered.

There was a pause before Jake answered her. "…Not really. Why?"

She didn't know whether he was being honest with her or wanted to change the subject. He turned away from her, his gaze fixated on the ceiling fan above them. "…I guess I didn't have a chance to think about it." There was another pause before he stared down at her once more. "…Sorry."

"It's okay. I didn't mean to bring it up…at least not that kind of way. It was pretty awkward—"

"Relax Sherry. It's not something I wouldn't mind thinking about. You just…caught me off guard there for a second there, that's all."

"Really?" Sherry twitched a smile. "Since when was the great Jake Muller caught off guard by a simple question?"

"Hey, are you trying to mock me Ms. Birkin?" He began to tickle her side, causing her to burst out laughing. He was on top of her now, his trademark smirk intact. "I didn't know you were so ticklish, otherwise I would have done this a long time ago. Guess I'll have to do this…more often!"

"Okay, okay, stop already!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought to breathe. Seconds passed, before Jake granted her request. Sherry's laughter died down, allowing her to catch her breath.

"So…" Jake began, staring down at her once more. "…ready for round two?"

Sherry shook her head. "I'm too exhausted, let alone move a muscle. I need my strength for tomorrow. I have clothes to pick up and dishes to clean. And you better help me mister, or we won't have rewards like this anymore."

"Oh come on, don't be like that. But then again, we did make a mess coming up here."

"As usual. And normally it's your fault."

"My fault? You're the one that keeps giving me these rewards. I told you that you couldn't resist my charms, even if you tried."

"I can resist your little charms, for your information."

"Is that so? Is that why you were blushing three shades of red when I called you at the supermarket?"

"I was not blushing three shades of red!"

"Oh yes you were."

"No I wasn't!"

"The pictures don't lie, supergirl."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"And why would I do that? You're my little supergirl."

"You're going to help me clean up tomorrow. We left a trail of clothes downstairs."

"So sue me."

"Do you really want me to do that?"

"What would you ask for anyway?" He ran his fingers through her short hair. "I mean, besides a bag of groceries or a homemade pie. I told you that my recipe would come in handy someday."

"Where did you come up with that recipe anyway?"

He was thoughtful for a couple of minutes before he decided to answer her. "Well, I was in Edonia and I found a recipe book somewhere. I can't remember where it came from but it was really old, with the pages burnt and torn out. I guess it was something the folks left behind during that war. I remembered a recipe like that years ago when I was growing up." There was a pause, before he spoke once more. "Anyway…that's the story behind the pie."

His childhood was a tender subject for him. Sherry decided to change it for the time being. "…There isn't anything I would ask for anyway. I have everything I need right here in front of me."

"Is that so? What do you have then?"

"I have you." She was honest with him, just as she'd always been since the assignment that led her to Edonia. Each night, she thought about it. Back then, she expected that he was a selfish, arrogant bastard that was too reckless and self-centered for his own good. Jake had proven her wrong in more ways than once. Sometimes, he was a little cocky, but that wasn't enough to dominate his personality. She was older, but she didn't allow age to come between them either.

Butterfly kisses were placed along her jack and neck. "Somehow, I knew you would say that. But that's okay, because I have you too. Seriously, you're the best reward a man could ever ask for."

"Mmm…" The warmth of their bodies abated her once more. "…Maybe I should check and see if Chris and Claire made it through traffic in one piece. Traffic has been a nightmare around here for weeks. Religious zealots clogging the streets—it's a miracle as to how they even got here in the first place."

"I'm sure they made it through. Redfield probably knows his way around this crazy city." He glanced at her. "But I thought those nutcases were done preaching the end of the world? They're still doing that?"

She didn't argue with him. "They haven't stopped. Even the public's going crazy right now. But you're probably right. They probably arrived at their place already." Sherry changed the subject again. "You didn't answer my question before. If we did have children in the future, we'll have to think about their names."

He gave her another lopsided smirk. "You must have had a lot on your mind before we came up here. How come you didn't bring this up with me before?"

Sherry shrugged. "…I don't know, to be honest. There was a show on television a week ago about adoptions and kids just came to mind. It's an interesting topic."

Jake rolled off of her and returned to his side of the bed, but not before drawing her close once more. "…Depends on whether it's a boy or a girl."

"Or twins." Sherry suggested. "Or two girls. Or a boy and a girl…maybe two boys. There's some possibilities."

"It'll probably be insane, trying to raise two girls." He chuckled at the idea. "I can imagine the idiots at school right now…hell I may have to interrogate their boyfriends or something. I don't want to bust in some kid's head if he does anything to hurt my girls. But then again, there's that whole birds and the bees conversation—or whatever it's called."

Sherry chuckled as well. "I'm not sure if I can handle that conversation. I may have to sit in on that one."

"Do you seriously doubt my abilities to give a rational explanation to two young girls about the birds and the bees? You don't have much faith in me, do you?"

Sherry gave him a slight thwack across his chest. "I'm just kidding. I'm sure you can handle that when the time does come. You do realize it won't be easy, right?"

"C'mon supergirl, I've been through a lot during my years of growing up. If we did have kids, I'll make sure they'll be the happiest ones on the block. I can handle that conversation."

"Just checking."

"It can't be that difficult…unless you want to do the honors."

Sherry cocked a brow and glanced at him. "You're really going to leave that conversation to me? What if we have two boys?"

"What, you're scared of a little challenge?"

A groan escaped her lips as she buried her face into his chest and drowned out Jake's laugh.

It was going to be another one of those nights.

* * *

**• • •  
**

* * *

|**Location: **Washington|

**Time: **1:00am

* * *

The car screeched to a halt along the dirt road. Chris tore the seat belt away from his waist and flew out of the driver's seat. He didn't give Claire a chance to shrug out of her belt. He broke off into a run, as he raced towards the hiking trail that led to the condo. The silence from Jill's cell phone confirmed his suspicions, once the traffic jam had cleared. He found himself breaking every kind of traffic law he could think of, but he didn't care. Reaching the condo was his top priority and he wouldn't allow anything else to get in his way.

Every possible situation visited him, once he was left with her voicemail. Guilt tore away at his conscious—he shouldn't have left her alone in there. He already knew that Neo-Umbrella wouldn't hesitate to strike at any given moment. He couldn't even rationalize his actions at this point.

The trail was too silent for his taste. A part of him wanted to believe it was a trap, but Jill was his primary concern.

"Chris, wait!"

Claire had caught up with him. "We don't know if this is a trap. It's too quiet around here—"

"I can't worry about that." He cut her off. "Jill could be in danger."

She couldn't argue with him. They reached the condo within seconds. He knew the path all too well and memorized it, once he moved in with Jill. A familiar chill coursed through him, as he took a step forward. He was met with a degree of carnage. Shattered windows and bullet holes marred the complex, including the doorway. The door itself was ajar, as it hung from the frame. His worst fear came into fruition and was more than enough to send him towards the condo.

"Jill!" He shouted; his eyes frantic. Claire was close behind, but she didn't move.

Something wasn't right.

"Jill!"

Before Chris could take another step, an explosion rippled through the air. He flew backwards; his back colliding with the ground. The last thing he remembered was the condo going up in flames, and Claire's screams before death awaited him with outstretched arms.

* * *

**Notes**: Holy crap, I am finally done! This chapter took everything out of me to finish. And don't freak out or panic about the cliffhanger—wait, that's too difficult to ask for, right? The next chapter will be twice as long and if you think I won't add bioweapons in this, I will—and it will get nasty.

Thanks again for the German, Ravenlaughter.

I decided to not add translations in this story because I wanted to make it more realistic. The fact that Jill understands what was said already gives us an indication of the current situation at hand. I will keep the translations in the other chapter because they're already there and it was a longer conversation to begin with. You can PM me if you want the translations of what was said.

**(1) **This is based on a quotation that I found on the internet. I figured it would suit the flashback quite well.


	9. Chapter 08: Know Thy Enemy

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N: **Very, very sorry this update took so long. This took a couple of rewrites and it wasn't easy. For one thing, I'm using a brand new format for my stories and I will be updating as often as I can. I have some real life things going on in my life right now so they may be slow but I will get them done. Also, I'm asking for a really good artist to draw some concept art for this story so if you know anyone or you have a natural talent for drawing realistically, let me know. I want concept art for my original characters and will give you a rundown of everything else.

Anyway, this chapter is pretty long, once again so enjoy. And thank you so much for the reviews from Emil and Primrose. I'm glad both of you like the story so much.

* * *

[**Chapter 08: **Know Thy Enemy]

* * *

...

_Observe your enemy, for they will find out your faults._

_**Antisthenes**_

...

* * *

_He was drowning._

_Darkness consumed him, as he began to sink. He didn't attempt to save himself, as if it was meant to be his fate._

"_Don't do this Piers… we can get out of this together! Piers!"_

_The voice was desperate, shouting at him to fight, but he didn't know what the words meant._

_Why did it call him 'Piers'?_

"_Piers!"_

_I don't know…what you're talking about…_

"_Piers!"_

_He was met with sudden pain—severe to the point he couldn't move. The voice transformed into a monstrous roar, but it wasn't the voice he heard minutes ago._

_It was his voice._

* * *

**• • •  
**

* * *

**Location: **Zhujiajiao, China-Shanghai Village

4, April 2013

* * *

"…No!"

The sudden lurch from the cot was enough to send him crashing to the floor. Beads of sweat coursed through him as he struggled for much needed air. Minutes passed before he was able to regain control of his body.

It wasn't the first time he had this nightmare. He didn't know what it meant or why it haunted him each time. He wasn't sure about his name or why he was here. The last thing he remembered was a pair of hands dragging him away from some river.

Now, he was the guest of a family he barely knew.

It was a family of three, comprised of a mother, father and their only daughter, Chao-Xing. She was the only one who understood him and was able to communicate whenever he needed something. Her parents usually stayed away, as if they were afraid of him in some way. She was forced to explain to them that he meant no harm and was just trying to understand who he was or why he was in their village. The explanation however, did little to quell the uneasy tension that hung over the village. There were times where he just stayed in his room and didn't come out until dinner was served.

He never told Chao-Xing about his nightmares and kept everything to himself. She didn't need to share his pain or confusion, and neither did her parents. They were responsible for saving his life and it was a debt he could never repay. Even if he found a way to do it, Chao-Xing would never accept it, insisting that his presence and kindness in her village was more than enough for compensation. It was rare that the village received foreigners, especially ones that ended up on their riverbank.

During his stay, he learned some words in their language but wasn't able to lead a normal conversation. Chao-Xing taught him and served as an interpreter when she didn't have to work in the city.

The villagers called him '_Donghai'_ until he could remember his name. It allowed him to blend in and they were also convinced that he came from the eastern corner of their village. He accepted the name, at least for now. The nightmares told a different story, and did little to quell the growing fear that tortured him each day. What if he couldn't remember his past? What then?

Piers may have been his real name, but he didn't know if it was.

He couldn't stay in the village anymore. There were answers…however he couldn't find them here.

Maybe if he left and reached the city, he could find a newspaper and have someone translate it for him. It may give him some clues on where to search. He would have to stay in a hotel or some apartment in the city and settle down.

He would need Chao-Xing's help.

A groan escaped his lips, as he struggled to his feet. His muscles were sore, due to his tossing and turning every night. Sometimes, he found himself on the floor outside of his room, with little recollection of what happened or leaving his room.

"…Are you…alright?"

A voice jolted him from his thoughts. Chao-Xing stood in the doorway of his room, a small tray in hand. He assumed it was for him, whatever it was. He didn't realize how famished he was until a sudden growl rose from the pit of his stomach. He grew accustomed to Shanghai's food and traditions. His diet consisted of fish, bok choy, and rice. Sometimes it was noodles, other times it was brown rice. Sometimes he had the pleasure of enjoying delicacies but even then it was rare. He grew tired of the meals and skipped dinner for a day or two. He knew it was to maintain his strength, but eating the same thing every day was enough to nauseate him.

It was better than nothing either way.

"…I'm fine." He said after a few minutes, his gaze fixated on the doorway. "…Don't worry about it—"

"No…you are not." Chao-Xing shook her head. "This is not…the first time I have seen you like this. Last night…you tossed in your sleep. I did not want to disturb you…but I cannot keep silent now."

She expected answers from him, none of which he was able to grant. Chao-Xing was attractive, but he never considered anything with her beyond friendship and help. Her dark, shoulder length hair was drawn into a tight ponytail. Her pale complexion highlighted her sharp features. Livid eyes were laced with concern, as she stared at him. She wore a traditional hanfu…or at least that's what she called it. She wore a white one this time, with intricate designs, ranging from petals to whole flowers. There were different colors-blue, yellow, purple and green. He was told that women in the region wore the customary garb when they had guests or when there was a wedding in the village.

"…Why didn't you wake me up?" He demanded. "How long…did you know about this…about my nightmares?"

There was a pause, before Chao-Xing answered him. "Long enough to know that you cannot go on like this. I was told…during my childhood that…nightmares were a part of a journey in your life. In your case…perhaps…it is part of your past. You try to fight, and yet you want answers. I did not want to intrude…but now I believe it is time for you to visit the temple. The abbot…may be able to help you…"

_Abbot…?_

He recalled seeing a temple in the village. It felt too holy for him and he stayed away whenever he decided to venture outside of the home he was staying in. He wasn't religious in any way but if she believed that someone could interpret the nightmares and give him a piece of mind, then he didn't have much of a choice.

"…I don't know…" He didn't know what to think anymore.

Chao-Xing shook her head and entered the room. The house wasn't much but the family was able to manage. He couldn't ask anything more from them so he took what they gave him. The house was composed of brown wood and plaster. It was something out of a movie—he just couldn't remember which one. His room was diminutive, complete with a cot, chair, and dresser. He didn't have many clothes to wear, aside from the farmer's garb Chao-Xing made for him and short pants she bought from the market. Despite not being wealthy, Shanghai Village still managed everything on their own.

She set the rustic tray on the cot and took his hands into her own. "…I will go with you if you need me. But you cannot go on like this anymore. You do not have to hide anything from me. I will do whatever it takes to help."

* * *

• • •

* * *

**Location: **Grace Clarke Hospital

Washington, 8:00am

* * *

He found her in the lobby, fiddling with the wrapper of a Granola bar. Her fingers were trembling, as she fought to release the snack from its package.

It was the first time he had seen Claire like this.

She was normally the strong one who kept everyone together during a crisis. Nothing got in the way of that, until now. He didn't know what to think anymore. As much as he wanted to console her, he couldn't do it. It was difficult to comfort her, not when she was faced with a possibility of death. There was a chance that Chris could pull through this but they had to be prepared for the worst.

Three days had passed and yet there were little signs of recovery. Based on the medical reports, Chris suffered a concussion that left him unconscious, but he was still alive. Leon wasn't the type to give up. If Chris had been closer to the condo when it blew up, he would have perished along with it. He received the news the following morning after he returned to his apartment and ended his conversation with Helena. It would have been one of those mornings where he would have tried to have some form of a normal breakfast before leaving for the day.

It was four o'clock, when his cell phone buzzed to the point it threatened to vibrate off the dresser. Claire's frantic cries on the other end indicated that something was wrong. Within minutes, he was off the bed and rushing to grab anything that resembled clothes. A black muscle shirt and denim jeans was the only thing he could find in the darkened room. There was no time for a shower, let alone coffee. He wasn't fully awake, as the words 'explosion' and 'critical condition' hung over him at each turn. He didn't expect Neo-Umbrella to strike, not this way. He recalled his own warning, from since he returned to the United States along with Chris and Sherry. They kidnapped Jill Valentine, ransacked the place and rigged it to explode, only to get rid of evidence of their infiltration.

Warnings be damned, none of them were prepared for this. It didn't matter what he said or tried to do. It felt as if Neo-Umbrella was always one step ahead of them.

"Claire…" He began. Everything else was lodged in his throat before he spoke once more.

Claire didn't answer him.

"…Claire—"

He watched as the bar was flung against the alabaster wall across the hallway. Claire stumbled away until she bumped into a vacant chair in the hallway.

Leon took a step forward. "The doctors said—"

"I know what they said." Her eyes were glued to the floor, unable to look at him. "…I should have stopped him. I knew something was wrong and I just allowed him to—"

"You didn't know the condo was set to explode and neither did Chris. I won't allow you to blame yourself for this—"

"I should have stopped him. We both knew it was too quiet and yet—"

She didn't continue her sentence. A chill traveled along Leon's spine.

He found himself staring at the cuts that marred her face. She was fortunate to be alive. As for Chris, the explosion left him scarred. Appendages were wrapped around his forehead and torso. Various monitors were hooked up, detailing his condition. Leon had never seen him this vulnerable. Chris was a veteran in the war against bioterrorism and was never injured in combat, at least not to this extent.

He had yet to hear from Hunnigan. Based on what they learned so far, the intruders were specially trained. They knew the location of the condo and that Jill would be alone. It was still unknown as to why they kidnapped her, but he was certain they knew about the Kijuju outbreak in Africa. Jill was considered a danger to herself and others around her when she returned to the United States. She was forced into 'quarantine' until she recovered from the effects of the drug Wesker fed to her during captivity.

He couldn't be sure but if they were planning to use her in the same manner, he didn't want to think about the repercussions that could follow.

The trail was cold, for now.

He was determined to rescue her at all costs, even if he had to utilize every ounce of his influence in Washington to do it.

_Grace Clarke Medical Center_ wasn't new to him at all. He had been here several times, mostly due to his injuries on the field. Other times, it was to visit agents that were injured on the field as well. He knew most of the doctors and nurses on some of the floors. As a service agent, he was able to obtain valuable information whenever possible. From there, he determined every outcome that was available to him.

At this point, he could only wait.

The stench of alcohol and plastic gloves filled his nostrils. The hallway was quiet, with the exception of occasional staff passing by. Colorless green walls surrounded them, combined with white marble floors. Grace Clarke was expansive, with hallways that seemed to go on forever unless someone reached their destination without getting lost. It was easy to get lost, but Leon knew the layout inside out. It took him a few weeks to study it while he was on leave after the mission in Spain.

Ashley teased him about it and claimed he must have been the biggest nerd in high school. He smirked when she said that.

_If only she knew…_

Still, the past memory did nothing to alleviate the anger that coursed through him now. Their top priority was to get Chris back on his feet. Their second priority was to search for answers. Their last priority would be to go after the source- _'The Family' _and Neo-Umbrella.

He wanted to put an end to this.

During the three days that followed, President Lambert was able to reveal to the public the truth behind Umbrella and Raccoon City. Security was tight and local media were checked thoroughly before entering the conference room. While he couldn't be there, he was informed by Hunnigan that the press conference was a success. It was the first good news he was able to receive over the course of the time he spent at the hospital with Claire. It was ironic, considering that Lambert just told the public that the government confirmed what political zealots had rambled about for many years.

"…Chris will get through this." Leon finally said. He placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. Within minutes, he was hugging Claire, as she buried her face in his chest.

She began to cry, but he didn't stop her.

* * *

• • •

* * *

**Location: **Unknown

* * *

"_You see, we know about your little spells, based on your medical reports…"_

"_This was the beginning of our little scavenger hunt."_

"_You are an investment for me…"_

___"…There is a fine line between genius and insanity..." His sneer broadened. "...but I have erased that line."_

___..._

Her movements were frantic, panic stricken. She fought against the straps around her wrists and feet. The room oscillated around her, until it transformed into a maze of colors. With each staggered breath she took, it elevated the nausea threatening to castrate the back of her throat. Memories were nothing more than a fog. The last thing she remembered was a voice that made her blood glaciate in place.

Even now, Jill knew she wasn't alone.

It didn't take her long to realize she was an underground cell, unable to move, let alone escape. The scenery was no different than the cells located in an Umbrella facility. Muddled walls surrounded her, encased in what appeared to be dried blood. Whatever was in here before her either died from its wounds or was killed off before it had a chance to escape. The stench of decayed flesh permeated her nostrils and only served to agitate her nausea. A single, monotonous lightbulb was above her head, outlining the cuts and bruises that marred her frame.

Minutes passed before her vision gradually returned. Layers of thin, blonde hair clung to her face, matted with sweat and dirt. She didn't know how long she had been down here. Every passing minute was a new period of torture. They kept her chained like an animal with little chance of making it out alive.

"I was beginning to worry about you, Jillian. It would have been unfortunate if you were killed off instead of being alive in my presence. It would have disappointed me greatly."

A figure was seated in the darkest corner of the cell, his tone laced with amusement. The revulsion she kept dormant for years since the mission in Kijuju ignited once more, filling her with a new reign of terror. Her body trembled and began to falter as she hung inches from the ground, her arms and legs spread wide apart.

It was impossible.

She saw everything with her own eyes. Wesker disintegrated before her once both triggers were pulled. She watched as Chris and his new partner Sheva Alomar liberated her from his control.

They destroyed him and she was free to reclaim her life.

And yet, she heard his voice.

_…No…_

Her lips moved, but there was no sound. Jill's heart constricted within her chest.

"I do apologize for your situation. After the trouble you've caused for my mercenaries upon arrival, it was best to keep you here, for now."

Beads of sweat trickled along her neck and chest. Words began to form, debilitated but loud enough for the figure to hear. "…You're dead. Chris…killed…you…"

The voice chuckled at her response. "Naïve and yet innocent at the same time. You never cease to amaze me, Jillian. It was interesting to make this entire world believe they had won. Christopher did what he always did best…fail. It's a shame that he has a rather unhealthy habit of underestimating his enemies. Fortunately, he was distracted long enough for me to pursue my agenda. You should be honored to be here; after all you fit into my plans quite nicely."

"…I watched you die…" Her consternation grew with each passing second. "They…killed you…they stopped…Uroboros….you're not real…"

"They lied to you. In the end, they accomplished nothing. They killed a flawed experiment with imperfect goals. It appears that my clone has done much to your mental state. Trauma, hospital visits, medications…you became a walking time bomb for years. Your medical reports are very fascinating. It's remarkable how you were able to survive this long. But that makes things easier, doesn't it?"

_Clone…?_

No, he was lying.

Everything was a lie.

None of it was true.

He was alive and would control her again. She had to get out…she couldn't allow the past to repeat again.

Jill struggled against the leather restraints once more. "…I don't believe…you. I won't listen to your…lies…I don't know how you…survived…but I won't let you use me again…I will fight…whatever it takes…"

" How I survived? Your disbelief is just as amusing as your resilience. Unfortunately, you don't have a choice in the matter. We'll see how far your resistance takes you this time. But I assure you, it will only be a waste of time, just as before."

She watched, as the figure rose from the chair. He began to approach her, hands clasped behind his back. He was the way she remembered seven years ago. Colorless blond hair slicked backwards to perfection, followed by aphotic glasses that hid the demonic eyes from view. She loathed his presence and the way he stood in front of her each time he 'punished' or 'praised' her actions.

The years she spent playing his twisted games while innocent lives were slaughtered; it was part of a ploy to weaken her. He enjoyed watching her crumble to the point she could no longer think for herself.

The leather exterior of the militaristic overcoat he wore glinted from the dull light. It was part of the black attire he was prone to wear during her captivity. It was nothing more than another form of intimidation.

A low growl rose from her throat. "…Stay…the hell…away from me…"

He ignored her request. "You are in no position to make demands either. Poor Jillian, what will you do at this point?"

Within minutes, he stood in front of her. A gloved hand reached forward and grasped her chin before she had a chance to yank her face away from his touch. "…All of you were part of this little game from the beginning. It would have been foolish to allow Christopher and his merry band of government officials to keep track of my activities. I knew from since the Arklay Mansion and Raccoon City that I couldn't pursue my work out in the open. It was easier to control everything in the shadows and carry out my agenda without interruption. I was always one step ahead, dear Jillian. Each of my clones was developed with the sole purpose of creating a mere distraction. They were imperfect but served their purpose well. You too, will be like them—serving out your usefulness until I no longer need you. Like I said, you should be thankful—you get to witness the dawn of a new order."

Spittle flew from her mouth and landed on his glasses, mixed with blood. "I…would…rather…die."

The grip tightened against her chin, causing Jill to grimace in pain. "Funny…you said that seven years ago to my clone. But don't worry; I look forward to it. Do try to put up a better show next time."

"…You…won't…get away...with this…it doesn't matter…what you do…"

He sneered at her response. "But I already have. Everything is set into motion and you have a front seat to witness it. I don't want you to die yet Jillian, so try and stay alive. It would be a shame for you to perish before I could utilize your services once more."

He released her. A strangled cry emerged from her lips as she pulled at the straps again. She watched as he pulled a handkerchief from the leather overcoat and turned away, his boots reverberating with each step.

She was left alone in the cell to suffer once more.

* * *

**Notes**: Holy crap, I am finally done! I didn't expect this chapter to take so long but at least it's finished. And yes, for the people who are following—I brought back our favorite fruitcake in the RE series. I also think it was pretty silly how he died to begin with at the end of RE5 so I decided to come up with a 'new world order' plot for this story. I don't want to spoil too much but this story is my biggest project. Don't be surprised if chapters get close to 9k or 10k words. I'll be working on my other stories as well but this one is the mother of all stories. I won't abandon it either.

And Chris is not dead. He's just seriously injured at this point. I'm a little tired of stories that have Chris completely unscathed and unhurt. I love Chris as a character but I wanted to make the story as realistic as possible.


	10. Chapter 09: Playing with Fire

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks so much for the reviews—I appreciate them. I am posting character concepts in the profile section of all my original characters—what they would look like in real life. You will find Alex, Chao-Xing (which is a real name in China), Hilda, Heidern (is made up and is a King of Fighters reference) Adeltrudis (which means 'noble strength' in German—you will see why she's named that way), Armen (the guy Jill captured, and that means 'army man') and Dieter (which means 'warrior of the people'). He hasn't been introduced yet. This group is made up solely based on RE: Mercenaries. I don't want to make the story too crowded but there will be one more Resident Evil canon character joining the fray. If you can guess who it is, I will write a oneshot for a pairing of your choice.

As for more Sherry/Jake in this story, there will be more but please keep in mind that this is my version of Resident Evil 7. I don't trust Capcom with Wesker's death at all so that's why I came up with this story too. But anyway, here's Chapter 9.

* * *

[**Chapter 09**: Playing With Fire]

* * *

|**Location: **Washington, 10:00am|

Grace Clarke Medical Center

* * *

Nothing prepared him for this.

If there was any way to say 'asshole' in more than one language, he would. It was rare that he felt this way. His comrades back in Edonia never ceased to remind him of how much of an asshole he was. With all the fighting and liberating going on, it was difficult for a man not to sink to that level.

And yet, the situation with Redfield was different.

To listen to everything he had to say, only to find out he was in a hospital this morning—he didn't know how to react to the news. The only thing he could do was shake his head, once Sherry spoke to him. He could sense regret in her voice, as she began to blame herself for not calling and checking to see if everything was alright. He ensured her that it wasn't her fault, but even then his words fell on deaf ears. Within minutes, his fist connected with the wall of the kitchen before he stopped himself. Because of the current situation, today was her last day home, while he was a sitting duck until Redfield recovered.

He didn't recall the last time he had been in a hospital, not since his arrival in the United States. After Sherry was gone out of his life and the fighting escalated to the remnants of BOWs in the region, he realized that his life had changed when he first met her. Suddenly, he didn't want to be in the middle of a fucking war. All he could think about was her. He found himself leaving one night and taking a flight out of the region with the money he saved over the years. Being a mercenary had its pros but there were cons as well.

You forget what it meant to be human.

From there, he tracked her down in Washington. He was exhausted, tired…hell he couldn't remember the last time he ate a hot meal. Sherry pulled a couple of strings, which allowed him to stay, instead of being deported. He received a checkup at a local hospital and was released under her jurisdiction.

Their relationship escalated from there, but it was never enough to settle down. Something had to ruin it to the point he wondered if they'll be able to have a normal life when this was over. Maybe when Neo-Umbrella and 'The Family' died out, it'll be possible. It was funny how he was thinking about them now. From what Jake heard, Leon Kennedy (or that's how he remembered his name) was convinced Neo-Umbrella was involved. Whatever they wanted with that woman Jill Valentine, he didn't know but it wasn't good at all.

"…We're here."

Sherry's voice brought him back to the present. The Buick Verano crawled to a stop in the parking space available in the parking lot of the _Grace Clarke Medical Center_. Redfield's sister and Kennedy went downstairs to grab coffee, so they were meeting them in the cafeteria. A part of him begged whatever god existed to not let him say anything that would either piss Sherry off or create some awkward moment between any of them. For once in his life, he was trying not to be an asshole or indifferent to the situation they were faced with.

"Sherry…" He began, placing his hand on her fingers before she pulled away to cut off the ignition. "…this wasn't your fault, you know. I don't want you going in there, thinking you could have prevented this or something. There's only so much a 'supergirl' can do. Don't take anything I said the wrong way…I only meant—"

"I know what you meant." She gave him a wry smile. "…And thanks."

Tears glistened at the corner of her eyes, but he could tell she was struggling with her emotions. For years, she knew Claire, and it was the first time they grew closer together. He knew about the hell she endured back in Raccoon City and how Claire risked her life to protect her when she was a child.

It reminded him of his mother when she was alive. Maybe that was why he never knew about his old man. Maybe that was why he was fucked up in the head and had trouble dealing with people.

He returned the gesture. "…Don't mention it. I just don't want you to feel responsible for this. Claire…wouldn't want to see you like this."

Sherry hesitated at first, but eventually nodded. "…You're right."

He squeezed her hand. "Redfield's a fighter. He's not going down like that."

Sherry managed a smile. "You're fond of him now."

"Yeah…well he did tell me what I needed to know and slapped me back down to reality. The least I can do is hope he gets through this shit."

She didn't argue with him.

They stepped out of the car in silence, once the ignition was turned off. Rows of vehicles greeted them, as they made their way towards the back entrance of the hospital. Jake created a mental note on where they were parked, once they left the hospital. They ran into personnel and nurses that were out on coffee breaks once they reached the twin glass doors. It was his second time being in a hospital of this scale. There was no such thing as a hospital in Edonia, unless you were lucky and lived in some mansion away from the bloodshed. In the battlefield, the only thing that saved you was someone who knew how to use something around them for a medical tool.

They had to wait until someone activated the doors so they could enter. The doors outside were sealed with a combination code of some kind and the only way to get inside was through a personnel leaving the hospital. It took five minutes to get inside, while he stood there, his hands shoved in his pockets. Once inside, they were met with depressive colors. The hospital was a sickly green and white, two colors he associated with a morgue on a television show. All Jake heard, as he kept up with Sherry was a bunch of medical jargon.

He didn't have a damn clue what they meant either.

They walked through a hallway that didn't seem to end, until they reached a set of elevators, protected by two guards. He could tell, based on the insignia on their uniforms that they were B.S.A.A material. Their indistinct colors, armor and corpulent assault rifles gave it away. He already learned from Sherry that the D.S.O and the B.S.A.A were on high alert…or 'critical alert'—whatever they called it.

He wasn't surprised, given what happened to Redfield. There were plans set in motion on finding Jill but he didn't think they knew where to search. If there was one thing he learned about Neo-Umbrella, it was that they were discreet about their locations. Even to this day, he still didn't know why the fuckers captured him and Sherry in the first place.

Sherry began to reach for her I.D in her leather handbag, but one of the guards stopped her.

"We were told you were coming, Agent Birkin." He said. "That won't be necessary."

Both guards had their eyes trained on Jake. That was something he couldn't stand about jarheads—the way they stared at you, like you were underneath them or something.

Before he could ask the guy what the hell he was looking at, Sherry responded. "He's with me."

The guards gave him one final stare before they moved out of the way, allowing them to pass. He brushed pass them, as he kept up with her.

"…Typical jarheads." He muttered under his breath, but they didn't hear him and neither did Sherry. He couldn't help but feel this was going to be a long day. Of all the things they've been through after Edonia and China, it was only bound to get worse.

He just hoped he was prepared for it.

* * *

• • •

* * *

|**Location: **China Airlines, Flight B-18253|

En route, Zhujiajiao, China

* * *

'Alex' was certainly a mystery, at least to the black market. Even her best connections and sources couldn't track down his origins. The only thing she got out of this witchhunt was that he was as former director of a pharmaceutical group known as D.E.T.E.K. It was the typical goody-two-shoes organization, of which had no affiliation with the black market—that is until it was discovered that 'Alex' was sticking his hands in the cookie jar far too often. He was forced to step down and his rival took his place—David Archer. But then again, he was mysteriously killed and the group was bought out by Tricell. The last thing she found out was that Archer was drugged by an unknown substance and the case remained unsolved. The police believed that 'Alex' had something to do with it, but they couldn't make the bust; considering that he had the best lawyers to defend him.

Wealthy, ambitious, mysterious, and good-looking—there were traits that she could smell a mile away.

Everything else about him was either nonexistent or unknown. She did learn something about his childhood, but it was the usual 'parents died of natural causes' spiel.

Ada leaned against her seat, her mind occupied. Her flight to Zhujiajiao took off minutes ago, and on time. Traveling had become a social norm for her. It wasn't the first time she had been on an airplane for more than five hours. She had plenty to do within that space of time—catch up on her email, take a nap, drink some champagne once dinner arrived, read, work on a crossword puzzle, or watch the typical Taiwanese drama that was shown on television. The extra time allowed her to think as well, and reflect on her current situation. While her mind was focused on 'Alex' and Neo-Umbrella, it was also on the possibility of Piers being alive.

She didn't know what to expect when she arrived in China. Maybe she'll find a disfigured mess, struggling to piece together what happened to him or why he was in a strange village, surrounded by strange people. She tried to imagine how the B.S.A.A boy-scout would react to her presence, but she doubted that he'll welcome her with open arms. She was still considered a terrorist and would remain that way until she was captured by whoever reached her first.

Leon was still a safe bet, but Ada hadn't seen 'Mr. Handsome' since she saved his ass in China. And now, she was heading back there, just not in the infected part of the country. It was still a quarantine zone, and there was no doubt in her mind that the infestation would disperse to other parts of the country. Her primary goal was to get in, grab the boy-scout and get the hell out of there. Whatever 'The Family' wanted with Piers, she was certain that it had something to do with the dormant virus in his body. They either wanted to replicate the virus or make Piers their little guinea pig—just as Wesker had done to Jill Valentine years ago. The whole story behind that was still foreign to her, not to mention how the woman managed to survive in the first place.

Alex wasn't lying when he planned on granting her full accommodations along the way. It wasn't the first time she traveled in style either, but it was the first time she rode business class on a Chinese airplane. The seats provided enough space for her to stretch out and take a nap if she wanted to. Chinese planes were sky blue and white, and the exterior was no different. The aisles were lined with sky blue carpeting, devoid of stewardesses for the time being. A few passengers filed through to use the bathroom but that was the only activity she encountered for the morning.

A soft beep emulated from the Toshiba tablet on her table, indicating that a chat session was initiated. It was enough to interrupt her train of thought, as she turned away from the oval shaped window next to her. Ada touched the screen and dragged the window she had opened up since her flight took off. True enough, she had a new message, but it wasn't from Ting. After her brief stay in Taiwan, Ting made her promise that she would keep in touch while she was on the move. Just as before, Ada never told her about her true line of work. It was better to maintain the only friendship she kept since childhood then to put Ting's life in danger.

The message was marked with a letter 'A'. She had seen enough of them to know it was from 'Alex'. She began receiving them ever since she took the assignment from him.

_Is he checking up on me? He probably misses me already…_

Her lips curved into a trademark smirk. _He's persistent, I'll give him that. Keeping tabs on me, aren't we?_

She began reading. It was a simple message, and would have normally chilled an ordinary person to the bones; however Ada was anything but ordinary. She wasn't perturbed by idle threats, especially not from a man she had met days ago.

_**[...You've been snooping around, Ms. Wong. I suggest you stop now. My past is not part of your assignment.]**_

_He's fast…_

She assumed a little 'fairy' told him about her little investigations—not that it surprised her, considering that he was Neo-Umbrella material and they had connections in every country.

_A man with a past to hide and sources…my,my... this keeps getting interesting by the day._

Minutes passed, before Ada responded to the message. **[I have no idea what you're talking about, Alex.]**

She delivered it without hesitation. 'Alex' responded soon after. _**[I believe you do. And if you continue on, I'll be sure to deduct your pay when you return with Mr. Nivan.]**_

Ada resisted the urge to laugh. It had been a long time since she played a game like this. **[Deduct my pay? A pity that we never discussed payment in the first place. How much were you willing to pay for Nivans? My prices aren't exactly cheap for this line of work. And I think I have a right to know about my client's past, especially a Neo-Umbrella lapdog.]**

Alex's message took longer this time, however when he did respond, it was more than enough to dissipate her amusement.

_**['The Family' knows everything about you, Ms. Wong. Do keep in mind that you're playing a dangerous game. If you fail to cooperate, I can have your closest friend killed…what was her name again? Ah, her name was Ting. You will either stand down, or I can't guarantee your safety either. As much as your game amuses me, I have an obligation to my employer and I will not fail.]**_

_He wouldn't dare..._

Ada's eyes narrowed into slits. She didn't bother to ask him how he knew about Ting, neither did she care. **[Leave her out of this. Your business is with me.]**

_**[Funny you should say that, Ms. Wong. Perhaps this little warning is a sign of your full cooperation. You stay out of my affairs, and my operatives will stay away from your childhood friend. You're playing with fire, and sooner or later you will get burned.]**_

Before she could respond, the chat session ended. Ada gripped the armrest of her seat, until her knuckles whitened. She won't allow 'Alex' to get the best of her. Wesker couldn't do it, and neither could the government agents that were sent after her.

Unfortunately, the odds were not in her favor, just as before.

* * *

**Notes**: This chapter was meant to be a bit short. The next one will be much longer.


	11. Chapter 10: The Devil's Game

**Title: **Damnation

* * *

**Author:** Ultimolu

* * *

**Series:** Resident Evil

* * *

**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

* * *

**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

* * *

**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

* * *

**A/N**: Very, very sorry for the long wait in this chapter—it took a while and I had other updates to work on as well. Rainfox and Emil, I'm still working on your oneshots. They will come eventually. I would also like to thank Donut Mistress for the reviews, favorites and alerts.

* * *

_A body with no soul and a face without a name, _  
_We are caught empty handed in the devil's ceaseless game. _  
_The past leaves a trail with no trace of coming back, _  
_We try to free the demons just to keep our heads intact. _

* * *

[**Chapter 10**: The Devil's Game]

* * *

**Location: **Grace Clarke Hospital

Washington, 10:45am

* * *

"…We got here as soon as we could."

Sherry's voice brought Leon back to reality. It drew his attention away from the Styrofoam cup he had been staring at for hours. He never touched the lukewarm coffee or tasted it. It stood before him, as if mocking him for not taking advantage of the free caffeine available. He didn't know how long his gaze was focused on the cup. It could have been minutes, seconds…he lost track of time since he arrived in the cafeteria with Claire. She excused herself to use the restroom and hadn't touched her cup either.

He was left alone to contemplate Hunnigan's recent phone call. It wasn't about the investigation or new information he didn't know about already. He just learned that Rebecca Chambers was coming to Washington and needed a place to stay. Fortunately, he knew some hotels around the city where she could stay for the time being. He wasn't surprised that Hunnigan contacted her—nothing surprised him anymore. Not since Raccoon City, the mission in Spain, China, or Tall Oaks. Claire said that Chris would need support once he regained consciousness and it was something Leon couldn't argue with.

He couldn't help, but feel it was Kijuju all over again. There were enough reports on what happened in Africa and Tricell for him to read through. He had gone through Jill's psychological reports and tests, all of which drew the same conclusion—post traumatic stress.

It sickened him each time he read her files. The trauma she faced was unlike anything he had ever seen. Nightmares, blackouts, vicious attacks…she had been a shell of her former self. He recalled visiting her a few times while she was under the jurisdiction of the psychiatric facility that was funded by the B.S.A.A. She would have been thrown in a straight jacket and declared mentally insane if she didn't pull through.

Jill had been through hell and back, while Chris was on a warpath of self-destruction. Bioterrorism transformed the world into a battlefield and destroyed everything that made a person human.

"_This war will end one day."_ He recalled President Benford say months before the infection. That time, he wanted more than anything to believe his old friend, but now Leon wasn't sure.

He found his gaze shifting to Jake, after he noticed Sherry standing with him. There was a small hint of remorse, based on his features alone. He knew about the conversation he had with Chris from Claire.

For once, he welcomed the sudden change. He just hoped it would stick for the time being.

Leon nodded, acknowledging his presence. "It's good to see you…Jake."

Jake hesitated at first, but returned the gesture. "…It's the least I can do. Seems like you have your hands full Kennedy. We should have known something like this would happen."

Leon turned away and stared at the cup once more. "No one is to blame for this. Neo-Umbrella would have made their move sooner or later."

"How long have you been here?" Sherry asked.

"I've been here since six o'clock. And…its fine that you guys just got here. Traffic in Washington is a nightmare. It took me a while to get here myself."

Sherry nodded. There was a pause, before she continued on. "…How bad is it? Where's Claire? How is she…holding up?"

"It could have been worse," Leon said, watching as she grabbed a vacant seat from a neighboring table and sat down. Jake chose to stand up, his arms folded. The cafeteria was no different from the rest of the hospital. It was just as green as the top floors where the patients were located. The polished alabaster marble floors were the only thing that brought life into the area, aside from the vending machines on the far left side of the room. There were a few doctors and other personnel enjoying their morning coffee but the rest of the cafeteria was a ghost town.

"The doctors said that there's a chance he'll recover. It's a matter of when he'll wake up but anything can go wrong at this point. Claire…went to use the restroom. She's trying to stay strong but…it hasn't been easy for her."

"He's in a coma?"

This time, Jake was the one who spoke up. Sherry was about to excuse him, due to the brusque nature of the question, but Leon answered him. "No, his injuries aren't life threatening. They were serious but not enough to put him in a coma. I'm confident that Chris will get through it. I've known him for years. He's been through hell and back…this is just a setback."

"Things were too quiet for comfort," Sherry said. "What about the investigation? Did Hunnigan call back with anything else? You told me that this was done by professionals, based on the explosion."

"…A mercenary unit," Leon said. "This isn't the first time I've seen this happen." Again, there was a pause before he spoke once more. "When I received my first assignment with the D.S.O, I was briefed on a wealthy businessman with ties to bioterrorism. He was involved with the original Umbrella Corp.—he just wasn't caught in time to pay for his crimes. We were in the middle of an investigation, when we learned that he was killed, along with his wife and two children. Their home was destroyed and there wasn't much we could work with. We determined that explosives were the cause for their deaths. A demolitions expert knew his way around technology and knew the layout of the mansion they lived in. It's already determined that a demolitions expert was behind the explosion three days ago. It was reassurance that nothing was left behind and we couldn't trace them…just like the first assignment I had when I was a rookie."

"Neo-Umbrella likes their little game of hide and seek," Jake said. "It's no different from when we were in China. They won't make this easy."

"I don't expect them to." Leon agreed. "But we can't stand around and wait for them to make another move either."

"But why Jill?" Sherry asked. "It doesn't make sense for them to go after her."

"She was an easy target." He didn't want to admit it, but the events four years ago became clearer to him. 'The Family' must have known about her past. He didn't know their motives, but Jill was in danger. Leon couldn't help but feel they were planning to use her in the same way Wesker had used her years ago. It didn't make any sense—Sherry was right, but at the same time, it was the only conclusion he came up with for the time being.

"…Easy target?" Sherry echoed. "…How?"

"They must have known about her connections to Kijuju four years ago and the control she was under. They may be planning to use her the same way. I don't know how, but they didn't just take her just to throw us off guard. There's more to it."

"You told me that she was under the influence of a drug and a device that was on her chest four years ago…"

"P-30," Jake said, filling in the blanks. "I remembered that chat I had with Redfield three days ago. Guess my father was pretty much a deranged scientist who got his kicks from controlling hapless women. I just wonder if there's more to this little fairytale from hell I should know about."

"Jake…" Sherry began.

"It wouldn't hurt to call him by his first name." Leon's gaze was focused on him once more. "We're all in this together, whether you like it or not. You can start by calling me Leon and referring to 'Redfield' as Chris. I'm not the best of friends with Chris but he deserves some form of respect."

Jake snorted. "Look, I'm not into first names right now. It's just not my style and I don't expect you to force me into it. I don't know you or Redfield enough to do it, aside from what's going on and what I heard from him three days ago. We're here in a hospital, Redfield's out and his partner's been kidnapped by the boogeymen. I don't think first names should be the best thing to bring up."

Leon was about to speak, but decided to let it go. He couldn't expect a straight answer from Jake Muller, despite everything they had gone through. There were more pressing matters on the table and if his deductions were correct, they would only escalate further. With no leads or sources to aid them, they were sitting ducks, at least until Chris regained consciousness. He didn't want to contemplate the damage Jill's disappearance would do to him or the actions that would follow soon after. He didn't know if the B.S.A.A or the security guards would be enough to keep him from tearing the hospital apart.

"…What now?" Sherry questioned, rattling Leon from his thoughts. "We can't do anything until Chris recovers and we don't have any leads—"

"One way or another, we're going after the bastards who did this. I won't rest until something is done."

A new voice joined the occupants at the table. Leon noticed that Claire had returned, along with Sherry and Jake. Sherry was about to leave her chair, but she was stopped.

"…I'm fine Sherry. This isn't the time for pleasantries…but I want to thank you and Jake for coming. And Jake…" Claire turned to face him. "…I just want to thank you for listening to Chris. He…meant well…and just didn't know how to approach you."

"…I…" There was a pause from Jake, before he spoke once more. "…its fine. Redfield told me what I needed to hear. That's what matters."

"Claire, are you sure you're alright?" Leon asked. Claire's voice betrayed her emotions. He could always tell when someone wasn't feeling well. It showed up on their faces whenever something was wrong. Claire's face was ashen; indicating that she had thrown up a couple of times. Her arms were folded, but her body was trembling. To pretend everything was alright…it was stupid, even for her. "You were gone for a while—"

"Leon, I said I was fine—"

"No you're not." Leon cut her off, as he rose from his chair. Claire opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her. "I'll get something to settle your stomach. I'm not blind Claire. You're shaking from the waist down. We don't need this right now."

He left the table before anyone else could stop him.

* * *

• • •

* * *

_**Europe**_

_February, 2006_

* * *

_He knew it would come down to this._

_The hallway seemed to go on forever, amplifying each step they took. The reverberations of their combat boots echoed along the walls. It forced them to slow down a couple of times, just in case they came across another trap. Based on the Intel they received, they were close in pinpointing Oswell E. Spencer's location. With everything they had gone through, he didn't want anything to go wrong._

_Peals of thunder disguised their movements, which made the travel a bearable pace. He closed the door to the last room they had swept. A stroke of lightning cast shadows in the hallway and caused the present ones to grow darker by the second. He felt Jill shift next to him, but she gave him a nod to continue on. The only thing he could give her was a diminutive smile, as if to assure her that it'll be over soon. Jill returned the gesture, except that it wasn't as sincere as his smile._

_He couldn't blame her._

_They never had luck with mansions, not since Raccoon City. With the BOWs they faced before, it was a miracle that they were still alive. Spencer's Estate placed both of them on edge the minute they reached ground level. There were more rooms to check, but he was reluctant to search them. The area was too quiet for comfort—he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The only sounds he heard was from outside and the hammering inside his chest._

_For years they fought to apprehend Spencer. They utilized every resource available to hunt him down. Two decades were spent in order to ensure Umbrella's end and the global threat of bioterrorism. Many paid for their crimes through death, with the exception of Spencer and Albert Wesker. If they were going to take out Umbrella's leftovers, they would have to make every second count. _

_Apprehending Spencer would grant them Wesker's location. _

_Leon was the reason why they were here, as well as an old acquaintance that once worked for the United States government. He soon learned that the B.S.A.A weren't the only ones hunting Spencer. Other law enforcement bureaus played a notable role in the case. The black market smelled blood in the water and wanted their part as well. There were attempts on Spencer's life, but the would-be assassins were never found. They disappeared without a trace, leading him to believe they became another part of the bioweapon collective._

_Pictures matching Spencer's description were sent through an insider in Europe. His estate was located in the mountain region of Austria, hidden from view. The only way to reach the mansion was by helicopter. He never bothered to inform the rest of the B.S.A.A division of the new leads. As co-director, he was able to pull some strings allowing him and Jill to reach Europe within a couple of days. Working with the branches in London and the United States always left them one step behind. _

_Spencer outmaneuvered them each time._

_The leads they received in the past were either cold or brought them back to square one. It was more than enough to force him to take matters into his own hands. _

_Jill cocked her Beretta, and gave him a signal that their next destination was up ahead. He nodded and readied his Samurai Edge. He understood the body language protocol, well before he joined S.T.A.R.S. It was standard communicative procedure, and was common during chains of command. _

_They reached the end of the hallway. Jill gave him another signal, indicating that she would take the right side of the large twin doors before them. He acknowledged her response and took the left side. _

_Jill looked at him once more. Her fingers were pressed against the trigger. "…Are you ready?"_

_He returned the stare. "…Let's get this over with."_

_He gave her signal of his own, as he counted to three. As soon as his fingers reached the last number, they slammed through both doors. _

_He would have been lying through his teeth if said they were unprepared for what came next. The last room, based on their map was the library, but it wasn't any less of a surprise to them. What startled them was the sight of the empty wheelchair in the middle of the room and a corpse next to it. It didn't take them long to realize it was Spencer, lying in a pool of his blood. A gaping hole was in his chest from where his heart used to be. It took everything in his being to overcome the nausea at the pit of his throat._

_He had seen worse, and yet…this was somewhat different._

_A lone figure stood near the windows of the library, his gaze fixated on the view that surrounded the mansion. His blood ran cold, as memories resurfaced. Every fiber of his being struggled to move, but he was frozen in place and so was Jill. Darkness lapped at the figure's presence. The identification was clear to him, once the silhouette turned around. _

_The figure smirked, as crimson eyes bore into the depths of his soul._

"…_Hello Chris. It's been a while, hasn't it?"_

* * *

• • •

* * *

_**May 2006**_

_Downtown Washington_

* * *

_The glass was snatched away from his grasp before he could take another shot of liquor._

"_That's enough, Chris."_

_Rage coursed through him, as he glared at the man in front of him. No one told him how much was enough, or when to drink. He should have known Leon would try to stand in his way of drowning his problems away. _

_He didn't know how long he was standing there, or arrived in the bar. The bar was empty, with the exception of a few occupants struggling to get drunk. He was too drunk to get up or stand on his own. His other hand gripped the bottle of Scotch to the point his fingers reddened around the rim. _

_He wasn't going to be denied his time; he would make damn sure of it._

"…_Give…me…the…fucking glass…Kennedy…" He ground out. If it was a fight Kennedy wanted, he would give it to him. _

_He clambered to his feet, only to fall back in his chair. The glass was yanked further away from his grasp, as Leon stared down at him._

"_Jill would have never wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted to see you wasting away like this. You know, I never thought that the great Chris Redfield of the B.S.A.A would give up the war against bioterrorism. I should have known you would have been here again threatening the bartender and everyone else around you. You're lucky they didn't call the cops—"_

"…_I said give me the fucking glass…"_

"_Or what, you'll take a swing at me? You're either crazy or you're aiming for a slow death. Either way, I'm not letting you go down this way—"_

"…_What the hell…do you know…?" He was shouting now, as he fought to get up once more. "I…watched her die…I let her…go. Don't try to psychoanalyze me…you son of a bitch. You know nothing about the hell…I'm going through right…now…!"_

_Leon didn't back down. "You know damn well this wasn't your fault to begin with. It was a failed operation, but that doesn't mean that you give up on the rest of the world. Jill only did what she thought was the best course of action. There's a reason why you're still alive. Jill saved your life. If this is how you respect her, then I don't want to be in your shoes right now."_

_She saved your life…_

_He was sick of hearing that._

_Jill did save his life, but it didn't change what happened to her. It didn't change the fact that she was gone and he allowed it to happen. He couldn't help but feel death robbed him of the justice he wanted all along. Not only did it rob him, it took away the one person he cared for the most after his sister. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but couldn't. He swore they'd go home together once they apprehended Spencer at the mansion. He swore that no more people would die on his watch. He vowed to destroy what was left of Umbrella to the point they couldn't prey on the innocent. He wanted to see Wesker and Spencer pay for each crime they committed against humanity, but not this way._

_Jill was yet another casualty on his hands. Her voice haunted weeks after the mission. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat He would tremble with the one emotion he struggled with for years._

_Fear._

_And now, he was being told it wasn't his fault._

"…_You don't know…how I feel right now. It happened…so fast…I should have known…"_

"_You can't change what happened. Drinking won't solve a damn thing right now. I know exactly how you feel. I lost someone close to me years ago when I first started out as a government agent. We were in the middle of a drug war in Cuba. Drugs were being smuggled over there, and rival gangs were fighting over money and territory. There was even Intel that linked to bioterrorism, but that was never confirmed. We were partners at the time…her name was Lea. She died trying to save me. We were in a firefight…down to our last clips. Fortunately, backup came, but it was too late. She was gone…and she died in my arms. I spent weeks blaming myself for her death. I should have known the bullet would have slice through her before any of us had a chance to fire. I had nightmares…even day terrors. I was forced to take time off until I came back to my senses and got my head together. You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself over something that was out of your control, or you can continue fighting—your choice. But don't expect anyone to clean up after your ass when you're gone because I sure as hell won't."_

_He was silent then. The words began to sink in. Whether he wanted to listen to Leon or not…he was right about everything._

_Jill wanted him to live._

* * *

He didn't know why he was remembering any of this.

He didn't know why they were there in the first place.

There were books about this stuff...where a person would remember events from their past before they died. But he couldn't die, not after the hell he had been through.

It felt as if he was stuck in the middle—between life and death. Just how bad was his injuries? He couldn't tell, let alone open his eyes. It felt as if he was drifting, as if he was in a dream-like state. He wanted to wake up, but some force controlled him in some way. The last thing he remembered were explosions and Claire's voice, but everything went black from there.

There must be a reason why he was remembering this. Was this someone's way of telling him that dying wasn't an option?

He didn't know.

He could only watch, as past events continued to haunt him.

* * *

• • •

* * *

|**Location: **Unknown|

* * *

_Ada Wong…_

His fingers whitened, as he gripped the phone in front of him. He didn't know how she found out about his past, but in the end it didn't matter. Whoever fed her the information would be disposed of immediately. The resources were available and there was no trouble in allowing the mercenaries to carry out the task. They were already successful in capturing Jill Valentine and this assignment would be no different.

It didn't surprise him that Ada was trying to outmaneuver him. It was evident from the beginning. While he did enjoy a challenge from time to time, he would also have to be careful. She could defy his orders during her 'trip' in China. Then he would have a problem on his hands and would have to answer to his leader for his failure in obtaining Piers Nivan.

He was not prepared to deal with the consequences that would follow soon after.

"Your conversation with Ms. Wong was quite amusing."

Aldemarco stiffened from the voice behind him. **(1)**

He didn't notice the additional presence when he was texting Wong. Shadows marked the vicinity of his 'office', obscuring his vision across the room. The only light source came from the somber weather from outside. He didn't turn on the lights upon his arrival because he wanted a sense of privacy. There was much to contemplate, aside from keeping tabs on Ada Wong. However, Aldemarco knew it would have to wait, for now.

His leader's presence was rare in his mansion. He didn't ask how the figure managed to bypass security. His guards only took action against uninvited guests. Government spies were quickly disposed of once they were discovered. They never survived long enough to uncover 'The Family' or the leader himself. Even now, he could imagine the 'heroes' of the outbreaks hunting for information to save their precious Jill Valentine. It was only a matter of time before they were disposed of as well.

"…It was none of her concern to meddle with the contents of my past." He replied. "My words only served as a warning to her. She will deliver Mr. Nivan to us, as planned."

Heavy footsteps approached the large window, where he was located. It wasn't long before the figure joined him, hands clasped behind his back. Aldemarco caught a glimpse of crimson eyes behind the tinted frames but he didn't turn away from the window. Lightning surrounded the dim room, illuminating the leather attire.

"Be sure that she does. If she does give trouble, then I'm sure you know what to do. Do not fail, or you will join your comrades in death."

Aldemarco froze.

He would have been a fool to ignore the warning. There were many within 'The Family' that were eliminated because of their treachery and failures that led to exposure. Derek Simmons was a prime example of failure. While he was successful in 'assassinating' President Adam Benford, he left behind witnesses, as well as a mess that he was forced to clean up. Aldemarco was given instructions to ensure that the mess was taken cared of. In the end, Simmons was a fool and had met his end along with Carla Radames. Now, with the truth behind Umbrella's involvement with Raccoon City out in the open, 'The Family' had taken a new direction, one of which he dared not defy.

"…Of course. Everything…will go as planned, I assure you."

"I trust that you will not underestimate Ms. Wong. She is a valuable asset, but she can also be a formidable threat as well."

Aldemarco's eyes narrowed. "She's just a minor inconvenience. If she stays away from my personal affairs, then I would have no need to threaten her. She is also beginning to ask questions about the leadership behind 'The Family'."

"I would not call her a minor inconvenience." The figure's gaze shifted. Aldemarco's gaze remained glued to the window."And her questioning is expected. If she behaves on her mission, then I will reward her with a personal visit."

"Should I inform her—"

"No. Proceed as ordered. She will be my concern once this charade is over." The subject was changed abruptly before he was able to respond. "I wanted to congratulate you for delivering Ms. Valentine in one piece. The mercenaries were quite exceptional."

Aldemarco adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. "Her recent medical condition allowed them to succeed."

"Indeed, it did. But I have my uses for her."

"Her comrades will be a problem. My sources have confirmed Jake Muller's presence in America. It appears that he is rather acquainted with Agent Sherry Birkin."

He received a dark chuckle in response. "I am well aware of Muller's presence. I will deal with my son eventually. However I intend to implement a new form of chaos. The B.S.A.A is next on the agenda. I intend to destroy everything Chris has ever worked for. Only then, will my plans resume."

Aldemarco didn't question him on the name.

He already knew about the co-director of the B.S.A.A.

* * *

**Notes**: This chapter is finally done! And while I'll probably be strangled for this cliffhanger, at least it makes you even more excited for the next chapter.

**(1)** Aldemarco is 'Alex's' real name.

**(2)** The flashbacks you see here is from Chris' subconscious. There will be three more coming up for the next chapter, which will lead to his recovery. Think of it as a way, where someone is unconscious and at the same time they're remembering certain events from their past.


	12. Chapter 11: Rage

**Title: **Damnation

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**Author:** Ultimolu

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**Series:** Resident Evil

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**Genre**: Horror, Angst, Drama, Romance, Action

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**Warning**: Strong language, imagery, and a few religious references (just a smidgen).

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**Plot: [Post Resident Evil 6, Jake/Sherry] **The outbreaks were only the tip of the iceberg. As the hunt against 'The Family' becomes a top priority, everyone becomes a pawn in a new game, all of which may very well be the beginning of the end. Love is put to the test, as a new fight begins to end Umbrella's legacy.

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**A/N**: I'm really, really sorry for the slow updates as of late. Between interviews, preparing for interviews, not freaking out at interviews and job searching, things have been rough for me. I will be tending to my other updates as well so please be patient with me.

I want to thank Emil for clearing up any minor issues with Chapter 10 regarding Derek Simmons and Carla. While there are some ideas outside of canon, I still want to preserve some canonical facts. Anyway, here's the next chapter and it's definitely long. My other updates/oneshots will come—just that real life pitches in at times. I also want to note that I made a change with the timeline in this story. This now takes place six months after the events of RE6. I also decided to add my original character from 'Fragile' in this story—but he has been reworked and has a new last name.

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[**Chapter 11**: Rage]

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|**International Flight #25**|

En route Washington D.C

* * *

_Hunnigan was right…the transportation around here is terrible right now. I shouldn't have doubted the situation in the first place. Just hang in there Chris…I'm on my way._

Rebecca stared at the lunch in front of her. She wasn't the biggest fan of airline food, but she hadn't eaten anything since her arrival at the Indianapolis Airport. It consisted of instant noodles and two chicken breasts that were stuffed with gruyere cheese and meat. The chicken wasn't dry and had some flavor to it. The noodles however, were terrible and she did her best to eat around it. She didn't have time to pack a lunch to carry along so it was better than nothing at all.

Her disproval of the food didn't conceal her appreciation of Hunnigan securing a private plane to Washington. Based on the local news reports, it was a nightmare at every major airport. Government agencies waited for any signs of Neo-Umbrella activities. It was like the calm before the storm—she knew this all too well. She had gone through enough monstrosities the original Umbrella left behind to know this was only the beginning. Chris was injured, Jill was kidnapped….none of it made sense to her, even when Leon spoke to her on the phone. The only conclusion they could draw, was that Neo-Umbrella was planning something big. If Jill was involved, then they would have another West Africa incident on their hands.

At this point, no one knew what Neo-Umbrella's intentions were.

Jill was the bait, and they were being drawn towards it.

Rebecca picked at the chicken breast with her fork. There were no leads right now. Answers would have to be sought after one way or another.

There were days where she wondered if the nightmare of bioterrorism would end. Just when she thought everything was okay, another event proved her wrong. She didn't think her services were needed in Washington until now. She wondered if Barry and Carlos were called in as well. They were, after all the original co-founders of the B.S.A.A, along with Chris, Jill, and herself. If it wasn't for their joint efforts in dismantling Umbrella, the B.S.A.A wouldn't have existed in the first place. There were bumps along the way, but they accomplished the impossible-a consortium that could deal with bioterrorism.

"I don't like airline food myself. Feel free to throw it away."

Rebecca looked up, only to come across the curious blue eyes of the agent that was responsible for her flight. He was standing over her, his arms folded and propped against a vacant blue seat. She couldn't deny that in some ways he was charming but at the same time he was cocky, sometimes too much for his own good. It reminded her of Billy Coen years ago, but she hadn't heard or seen him since the Arklay incident. Wesley Archer's alpine, lusty build easily towered over her. Short, golden brown hair and the makings of a beard was enough for her to conclude he was in his thirties at least.

He was dressed in a black muscle shirt and gray slacks. A service issued brown holster was strapped around his shoulders and back. Rebecca wondered if strings were pulled in order for Wesley to work for the D.S.O. He reminded her of a regular civilian and was too soft-spoken to be a hardened agent. She did know that he was once an NYPD officer when he was in his twenties and served in the military for a short time but she didn't know anything else about him.

Rebecca shook her head and dropped her fork. "…I'm just occupied at the moment, that's all."

Wesley nodded. "…I see. It's not hard to see why really, considering the current situation right now. Everyone seems to be in deep thought these days." He paused for a few minutes, and then spoke once more. "…Makes me worry about my wife and two kids back in New Orleans. She's been threatening to leave the country and head back to Costa Rica because of this whole mess. I told her that she has to stay put with the kids for now, but she's been going crazy lately. I just hope she doesn't do anything stupid. There's been talks about another outbreak…can't blame people for being on the edge right now. I just hope Chris Redfield pulls through. He's a man I can respect; after all he did save the goddamn world four years ago."

He offered her a wry smile. "…Sorry…I just get carried away sometimes. I wanted someone to talk to, so I figured that you wouldn't mind my company."

Rebecca returned the gesture. "I don't mind at all. It is quiet around here."

Wesley shrugged. "Well, you are on a private jet, sponsored by the government. The only people you can talk to is me and probably the two other agents around here but they're playing chess anyway."

Rebecca leaned backwards in her seat. "I take it that you're not a chess fan?"

"Nah, I played a few games, but it got boring after a while. I'm not much of a cardboard game person."

"Wouldn't you get bored of talking with me too?"

Wesley smirked. "…Not really. I've never met a virologist before."

Rebecca reached over and grabbed the glass of water on her tray. "Well, I'm not sure what you were expecting. My line of work isn't something that can be discussed in one hour."

Her response was enough to peak his interest. "Oh? Well, we have enough time before we reach Washington."

Rebecca's eyebrow rose. "Well, that may be true, but why would you want to hear about my line of work?"

"I'm just curious, that's all."

"I didn't think agents like you would be into Science."

This time, Wesley's eyebrow rose. "...Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to avoid having a conversation with me?"

"I'm not trying to avoid a conversation. By the way, does your wife know that you have an unhealthy habit of flirting with other women?"

Her comment struck a nerve. A satisfied expression was on her face the minute Wesley's smirk transformed into a scowl. "Hey lady, I was not flirting. Can't a man start a decent conversation on a boring flight?"

Before she could respond, Wesley rose from his seat and made his way towards the front of the jet. She was certain that she heard him mutter something about women.

Rebecca shook her head and drank the rest of the water.

_Men…_

* * *

|**Location**: Unknown|

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"_Your services require unquestionable obedience. Your resistance will only prolong the inevitable."_

"_They lied to you. In the end, they killed a flawed experiment with imperfect goals. It appears that my clone has done much to your mental state."_

"_I watched you die…"_

"_They lied to you."_

Air rushed back to Jill's lungs.

Her eyes flew open, only to be met with a blinding light. She was forced to close them momentarily, allowing herself ample time to adjust before opening them again. A groan escaped her lips, as she placed a hand over her forehead.

…_Where…did he take me…?_

The last thing she remembered was being chained inches from the ground of a cell. Her only light source was a single bulb above her head. She had already figured that the bastards involved brought her down here for a reason. She was struggling to figure out what they wanted with her, when she heard a voice she was never meant to hear again.

_Wesker…_

Panic settled in, as she fought to adjust to the light. Her blurred vision was able to make out something, but it was anything but a warm invitation. It was a reminder of the cell she called 'home' after she returned to the United States. The B.S.A.A considered her a threat to everyone around her and demanded a full psychiatric evaluation just to see if she was in the right state of mind. Despite Chris' best efforts to convince them that she was being controlled beyond her will, they determined that P30 was still in her system. She went through test after test, appointments with psychiatrists, all of which prodded her for days. She loathed the way the cell trapped and weakened her. She loathed the way she was monitored, just like 'he' had monitored her while under his control.

She would stare at the walls for days and watch her sanity break away. Chris assured her that maybe it was for the best and it was the only way for them to place everything behind them.

But the nightmare wasn't over.

Once more, he found herself staring at the monster that was supposed to be dead.

"_It appears that my clone has done much to your mental state…"_

Jill clenched her teeth.

It was a lie.

He wasn't alive. It had to be some kind of trick to catch her off guard.

Everything she had gone through…Chris had gone through…was all of it in vain? She didn't want to believe that the Wesker they hunted for years was a clone.

It was a sick, twisted game and she was in the middle of it.

No, she had to get out of this cell even if she had to go through the mercenaries who brought her here…even if she had to fight an entire army by herself. She had to warn the others in any way possible. The world was in danger yet again and she'd be damned to become Wesker's pawn again.

Jill struggled to her feet, using the wall as leverage. Upon closer inspection, she realized that she was lying on a steel clad floor. Pain assailed her with each step she took. Minutes passed before Jill was able to reach her full height. A closer examination of the cell revealed a closed space. She felt as if she was in a cubicle encased in steel, with the exception of what appeared to be bulletproof glass on the right side of the wall. She could see another prison on the other side but it was empty. It was a prison of militaristic design and was devoid of anything she could use as a weapon, unless she was strong enough to rip the cover from the toilet.

Whether Wesker or his 'mercenaries' brought her here, they made certain that she had nothing to use for her advantage to escape.

_What kind of a place is this…?_

Jill couldn't help but feel she was being monitored in some way. With careful steps, she approached the cell bars that led to the door. It was unlike anything she had ever seen. Everything around here felt technologically advanced—it was the only way to describe her location. Despite the circumstances she was under, Jill couldn't deny that Neo-Umbrella was a step ahead of its former counterpart. The gate was encoded with a locking mechanism, which she assumed was controlled by someone from the outside.

She couldn't help but feel that she was being watched in some way.

Jill stared at the hallway before her. It was a large walkway, composed of white. Everything was eerily clean for the most part and was a far cry from the blood splattered cell she was in. Before she could touch the bars in front of her, Jill heard footsteps. She didn't know which direction they came, but she was certain that they were heading towards her cell. Jill backed away from the cell, until her back collided with the cool steel surface of the wall. The footsteps drew nearer with each passing second.

If they were part of Neo-Umbrella's brigade, then she would have a fighting chance to get the hell out of here while she still had the strength to do it.

Minutes passed, before a woman stood before her, all of which was all too familiar in stature. Jill wanted nothing more than to wipe the disgusting smirk off of her face. She could feel the woman's eyes on her the minute she spoke.

"…Are you comfortable?"

It wasn't long before Jill realized it was the woman she encountered at the condo before she was captured. Chartreuse eyes were laced with amusement, and to a certain degree satisfaction. The woman reminded Jill of a model she had seen in a magazine some time ago, but it wasn't anything she was impressed with. Her skin was ashen to the point she wondered if she was a vampire in disguise or freak of nature, courtesy of Neo-Umbrella's experiments gone wrong. The woman wore the same leather attire Jill had seen her in.

The stench of cigarette smoke perfumed the air, but Jill chose to ignore it.

"…Not one to talk, are we?"

She glared at the woman. She was observing her like a caged animal, her arms folded across her chest.

"…You're one of them, aren't you?" Jill demanded.

The woman chuckled at her question. "If you're referring to the unit that was sent to your precious condo, then yes I was part of it. You did give us some trouble back in America. I now see why he's still interested in using your services—"

"Who the hell are you and where did you take me?" She didn't give the woman a chance to finish. She knew the woman was referring to Wesker, but she kept it to herself.

The woman's smooth Germanic accent returned once more, as she heard a soft 'tsk' from her lips. "You should know by now that your capture has nothing to do with our unit. If we are given a command, we deliver. I mainly came here to see how you were doing…of course. Although I should note that your accommodations should be a little better. But who am I to question the leader of our order? My name is Adeltrudis, by the way. But I doubt it will matter, once our doctors are through with you."

"I'm flattered by your concern. Am I supposed to be grateful?" The sarcasm from Jill's voice did nothing to faze her. Instead, she was met with another soft laugh.

"I don't see why you shouldn't be grateful at all. I pitied the state of your condition, so I came here to extend my sympathy. As much as my comrades enjoy your torture, I am quite the opposite."

"I don't associate myself with anything that deals with Umbrella. That includes the self-entitled bitch before me."

She watched as the smirk vanished from Adeltrudis' lips. "…Do you think Wesker cares about you or your so-called mercenary unit? He cares nothing about you or anyone else. All of you are just another set of pawns in his little game. I won't allow him to control me again. I won't allow your sick organization to eradicate more lives. That's a promise."

"Americans and their heroic speeches…" Adeltrudis sneered. "Your small talk does nothing to change the situation you are in right now. The new order is not something you can stop easily. Everything happens for a reason, Ms. Valentine."

"_Like I said, you should be thankful—you get to witness the dawn of a new order."_

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Jill continued to glare at her. "Look at you, sniffling around like a dog just to please its master. Antagonizing me won't give you the satisfaction you crave the most. I'm not the least intimidated by you."

The smirk returned to Adeltrudis' lips. "You should watch your tongue Ms. Valentine, lest I remind you of your place. I know you are anything but intimidated by my presence. Either way, I look forward to meeting you again. Perhaps you will be a useful addition to our unit."

Jill didn't return the gesture. "…Don't count on it."

The smirk only widened. "You won't have a choice in the end. I'm interested to see what the good doctors of our facility have in store for you. Trust me…it won't be something you can escape out of during your stay in Africa, of course."

"Shut…up…"

"_Don't worry…I will take good care of you before Chris finds out you're alive."_

"That must be quite a sensitive topic for you still…to know that your sacrifices were in vain all of this time—"

"_Your fate is sealed…"_

"Stop it…"

"What's the matter Ms. Valentine? Did I strike a nerve there—"

_"…There is a fine line between genius and insanity…but I have erased that line."_

Jill bristled with rage, as she rushed towards the gate. An electric surge coursed through her as soon as she gripped the steel bars. She flew backwards and landed on the floor.

Another soft 'tsk' was heard, but she didn't register the noise. Pain shot through her muscles and back, producing a scream from the pit of her throat. Jill curled into a ball and gripped her stomach, unable to rise to her feet.

Adeltrudis shook her head. "I should have mentioned that this gate is fortified with a strong electric surge, but I suppose it would have been more amusing to watch you fly towards the gate as well. But I should warn you that the next time you do it, it may very well be the end for you."

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**Notes**: The next chapter will be much, much longer. I decided that this would be the perfect spot to leave this chapter.


End file.
